Come Home Bad Boy (22 page)

It doesn't really matter, I'm not pregnant.

At the register my hands trembled. The cashier, an older woman about sixty, smiled while she rang up the item. “Is this all?” she questioned, I could tell she wanted to ask more.

“Yup, that's it.” My eyes darted around behind her.
Please don't ask me anything else.

She peered at my hands as I handed her the ten dollar bill. “Nervous, huh?” I stood speechless, not sure how to respond. “Well don't be, no matter how it turns out, everything works out in the end.” She winked and passed me the bag. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Swiftly I pushed the bag into my purse and walked back to my car. I glanced around the parking lot with the hope I wouldn't run into someone I knew. The door slammed loudly and I rested both hands on the steering wheel, a deep breath escaped as I squeezed the rubber tightly.

A heaviness pressed down on my entire body, enough to physically shift my shoulders forward.
I can't believe this. What if I am? Oh god! What if?

My head fell onto my hands.
Calm down, slow breaths. You're not, this is only for assurance.
I shifted the gear into drive.
Let's go and get this over with. You'll feel better once it comes back negative.

Back at the condo I braced the box in my hands. I spoke out loud to myself. “Alright, let's just do this. You're not pregnant. So, piss on the stick and be done with it.”

My body shook from nerves, each muscle quivered individually.
Why am I so worried? I know I had my period last month. Just ease my mind to be sure, it's not a big deal. It's going to be negative anyway.

I couldn't stop my fingers from shaking as I opened the directions. Carefully I made sure to read them all. I wanted to do this right and not end up with a false positive. It seemed simple, fool proof even.

All that needed to happen was for me to pee on the hormone detector, let it rest for three minutes, and if there was one line then it was negative, two lines positive.

Here we go.

Those three minutes were the longest I had ever experienced. I was sure I'd made a track around my room while pacing, waiting for my cell phone timer to beep. Biscuit followed me around in circles as if we were playing a game, his tail wagged  from side to side with delight.

It's not going to be positive. No way it's positive.

Yes, the last time was unprotected. But, it's been a while now. I think I would have felt symptoms sooner.

And I had my period! I had it.

It's negative. Absolutely negative.

Startled out of the self talk by the beeping of my phone, I glanced down at my dog. “Alright, ready for this?”

Biscuit just stared back happily, his tongue hung out slightly as he tilted his head to my question.

I inhaled a deep breath and slowly walked towards the bathroom. The image of an inmate walking to death row crossed my mind; that lonely trek down a dark corridor to a deadly finale.

My heart raced as I approached the doorway. I didn't want to look down, I wouldn't let myself. My eyes closed while I stood over the sink where the test rested.

Just look down. Don't be scared, it's negative. Negative.

I forced one eye slightly open and glanced down.

Two lines.

Positive.

Owen

I
glanced down at the watch on my wrist.
Two hours left,
I thought as I stared at the undercarriage of a rusty, wood paneled wagon.
What a piece of shit.

Life outside the walls was a tough adjustment. Time had stood still for me, while the surrounding world changed at a rapid pace. Everything seemed more difficult than I remembered.

But when you go from a life of crime to the straight and narrow, it should be expected.

I could make one call and be free of all this shit. It would be so easy for me to dial a few old friends. I just don't want to end up back at that place.

I wasn't used to all this freedom. Flash backs hit when the buzzing of my alarm goes off each morning. For a quick moment I'd have to catch my bearings. Recognition needed to set in that I was no longer confined, that the bell was a clock and not the jail house timer.

Sweat dripped down my temple. I wiped it away, smearing grease across my cheek. That mere trickle of water brought Charlie into my mind. That last meeting with her, our bodies hot and wet...

It was unforgettable.

I wish I could feel her again.
The moment she slid herself down over my cock and how her body arched with pleasure, the smoothness of her skin against mine had stayed with me.

I hadn't stopped envisioning her. When the smell of exhaust fumes burned my nostrils, I replaced it with her scent. A southern accent caused my head to turn.

I need her again.

There was one day in the supermarket when I thought I'd had seen her. Dark burgundy hair flowed over the woman's shoulders, she had the same hour glass figure from behind.

Except it wasn't her.

That split second of excitement vanished when she turned around. An unrecognizable face glanced my way.

Before that instant, I had almost placed my lips to her ear to whisper, “Did you miss me?” Thank god I'd held off, it would have landed me back in prison. A sexual harassment complaint would not go over well with my parole.

“Hey! How you making out down there? You napping? Let's go! Adjust the suspension bolts already,”  Bill, my boss, yelled. He was a tall, hefty man with a hot temper.

Owner and manager of 'Monroe's Mechanics,' he had been hiring released convicts for years through the prison employment program. It worked for both of us; I got a job and he got a major tax break.

He was good to me though, and I was thankful for that. He didn't treat me any differently than the rest of the other guys here. I liked him, he had a good sense of humor, but no problem telling someone where to shove it; a fair man, who wanted the work done quick and right.

“Yeah! I'm on it!” I gripped the ratchet tightly and turned. “Fuck!” I grunted as my hand slipped off and hit the sharp metal edge, slicing the top open.

“What? Did you fuck up something?” he asked.

“Yeah, my hand.” I rolled out from underneath, displaying the gash I had just received.

He crinkled his brow. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it and tell you it's all better? Go bandage it up and finish the job. No worker's comp complaint either, it's just a scratch.” He let out a hearty laugh, his beer belly rattling up and down with each breath as he slapped the top of the car and walked back to his office.

I shook my head as I stood.
Always worried about getting sued.
I made my way through the car parts and tools spread across the floor. The shop had just enough room to work on two cars at a time. Any of the empty space was strewn with random items, broken and new. Each step I took I had to avoid some object in my path.

Bill doesn't want any worker's comp, yet he let's this place look like a hoarder lives here.
I chuckled to myself on the way to the sink.

The water stung as it ran over the fresh wound. My eyes squinted in pain while I tried to remove as much of the grease as possible. I started to remember how my hands had been the last time I saw Charlie, all bandaged and swollen.

I didn't feel any pain that day. I only felt her.

All of her.

“Hey, Owen! What are you deaf now, too?” Bill's voice crashed into my head.

“What?” I responded, slightly dazed.

“I've been talking to you and you've just been staring at the water. It's not that bad man, I think you'll live.” He patted my shoulder and smiled. “I'm leaving for the night. Finish up what you can and the rest can be done tomorrow. Don't forget to lock up when you go.” He started to walk away. “Oh, and I just got a call from Sammy's tow. They're bringing in a car that broke down, after that you can head out.”

“Sure thing.” I liked that he trusted me enough to let me close down the shop. I'd been trying hard to stay clear of any trouble.
All those robberies and bad decisions, they got me no where. I'm glad I haven't heard from Brice. I want no part of that world.

For a short time I wondered if my brother would try to find me. The day of my  release had been plastered all over the papers. Weeks after, I still looked over my shoulder, anticipating his crooked grin.

I attached the bandage to my hand and made my way back under the wagon.
Why do people want to dump money into a shit box like this?

The next forty minutes were spent gazing at the dirty mess above me.

Where the hell is that tow truck? I'm ready to go home, shower, and eat something. I hate waiting around for these fucking guys. They go at their own pace.

Light flooded the garage and the sound of tires against the gravel parking lot echoed through the room. I pushed myself out from underneath the car, pulling the rag from my back pocket. I wiped away the grime on my hands, ready to give the tow-driver an ear full.

Don't be a dick, Owen. If  I rag on this guy Bill will send  me packing. I need this job, I don't want to end up in a ditch.
I tilted my head against each shoulder to crack my neck.
You know what, fuck it. This guy needs to know people aren't going to wait around for him. I don't need to be a complete prick. Just a little kick in the ass might help.

I walked to the service door and threw it open. “It's about goddamn time! Did you get lost or something? You realize I can't sit around waiting for your lazy ass to stroll by when you're finally ready to do your job, right?” I waved the rag as I approached the driver's door.

The headlights blinded my vision of the truck. My eyes moved sidelong in an attempt to see the man behind the wheel; the door flew open. “Yeah, sorry about that man. I needed to stop off briefly for this young lady.” His voice was scratchy, as if he had smoked two packs a day for the past twenty years.

I stopped in my tracks, my legs as heavy as cement. The passenger door opened slowly. In the darkness of night a silhouette emerged, her face shielded in shadows against the glare of luminescent bulbs.

I brought my hand across my forehead to ease the brightness.

Is that...

No. It can't be.

My heart pounded in my chest as I squinted to get a better view of her face. I felt my lungs constricting, stealing any sound I could have made.

“Owen? Is that you?” The southern tone was melodic in my ears. I stood in awe, confused and unsure if this was really happening.

So much of my time had been spent looking for her in the face of every woman I passed by.

After all of that, has she really been dropped on my doorstep?

I'd fantasized about running into Charlie and what I would say. In my daydream I would walk up quietly behind her, leaning in to place my hands around her waist. “Hello, beautiful,” I'd whisper into her ear.

This was no daydream.

The only word I could find on my tongue was, “Charlie?”

Light broke across her figure as she stepped into it. Each curve of her body was enhanced by the radiant glow against the blackness behind her.

For the first time in my life, I couldn't speak.
She's hypnotic to my senses.
With just her presence, energy spilled into my body.

She looked at me, scanned me up and down. The centers of her glorious eyes shined, a million emotions I couldn't read. Was she happy to see me? Scared? I wanted to reach into her head and find the answers. Not knowing was painful.

Licking her lips, she said, “Hey, how are—”

The driver stepped forward, ending our reunion with his clipboard in hand. “I need you to sign this so I can get the hell home. It's cold as a witch's tit out here, man.”

I glared at him angrily for not letting her finish her sentence. Forcefully, I grabbed the form from his hand and scribbled my name. “There. Now you can go.”

He nodded, turning towards Charlie. “Are you all set, Miss? Do you need a ride home?” His words were polite, but the way he ogled her chest gave away his motives. There was no way I was going to let her ride home with this pervert staring at her tits the whole time.

“No,” I growled. “
I'll
get her a ride home. You can be on your merry fucking way.” I didn't know him, but I hated him. The way he looked at her filled me with anger. No one had a right to do that. This woman was mine, even if he had no clue.

Hell, even if
she
had no clue.

My fists balled up by my sides.
I want to knock this guy's fucking teeth down his throat.

“Alright, man.” The driver held his hands up in defeat and climbed back into his seat.

Looking over, I watched as the tension in Charlie's body vanished. Her shoulders slid down, away from her ears. Had the guy been creeping on her the whole ride? I itched to reach out and hold her, to comfort her.

As the red from the tail lights faded into the distance my eyes were drawn to hers. I knew she hadn't expected to see me here. Hell, maybe she hadn't expected to ever see me again.

Her hands rubbed together swiftly back and forth, the tip of her shoe twisted in the dirt. The silence between us stretched to the point of snapping.

I want to touch her to know she's real.
My hand came forward, but at the last second, I ran it through my hair instead of brushing her pink cheek. “Come on inside,” I said, “It's cold out.” I gestured towards the door with a nod of my head.

She remained still, her feet motionless. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

I smiled and said, “Come on, I won't bite. Unless you want me to.” Winking in her direction, I headed for the garage.

Charlie hesitated, then followed me warily. This wasn't the confident, self-assured woman I'd met months ago.
She's keeping her distance. Is she afraid of me now that the cuffs are off?

Or had something else happened?

I opened the door and with one arm guided her in front of me. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks,” she said, pausing at the door. Her eyes darted around wildly in every direction possible, except towards me.