Gazelle (40 page)

              Scott leans in towards her, reaching behind her back and pulling at the keys in her hand.  He breathes her in like a lion, his nose running along her hair.  His other hand slides down her waist and holds tight, pulling him towards her.

“
God, you smell so good
,
” Scott whispers.

“
Is that
a‘
lin
e
’ I detect
?
” she asks, her grip tightening around the keys even as her body presses into him.

              He catches her and brings her mouth to his, kissing her deeply, his hand wrestling hers for the keys behind her back.  She pulls away with a drunken smile, her cat-like eyes half closed.
 “
Yo
u’
re still not getting them
.
”
“I’
m sober enough to drive
.
”
“
Tha
t’
s not what
I’
m worried about
.
”
“
I have a perfect driving record.  No accidents.  No speeding tickets
.
”
“
Do you even have a license
?
”
“
…
No
,
” he smiles wickedly.
 “
But tha
t’
s never stopped me before.  Come o
n…
give me the keys.  You know you want to
.
”

              He kisses her again, grabbing her mass of hair and pulling, tightening his grip around her keys.  She locks her hand.  He pins her wrist and pulls upwards, gently.  She pulls away with a startled gasp, staring at him in surprise.  He kisses her again, hard, driving himself into her while keeping her completely pinned against the car, one hand around her wrist, the other wrapped around her hair.

“
Jesu
s
…” she whispers as his lips move down to her neck.

              Her eyes roll back.  Her legs spread, allowing him even closer, tighter against her, his grip relentless.  Her hand starts to unwrap from the tangle of keys.  He bites into her neck and makes another grab for them.  Her hand locks again, and she uses her free hand to push his chest.  He pulls away with a smile.

“
Alice, my love, i
t’
stime to go down the rabbit hole
.
”
“
No way
,
” she whispers.
 “
Yo
u’
re much too dangerous
.
”
“
Me
?
” he asks innocently, kissing her cheek gently.
 “
I think we got off on the wrong foot.  Your perception of me is completely a skewed
.”
             

              She laughs and moves her face away from him, exposing her neck, which he moves to automatically, sucking gently.
 “
I do
n’
t think it is.  I think I had a very accurate first impression
.
”
“
Listen
,
” he whispers, kissing her earlobe between words
,“I’
m not going to lie.  I am going to take you back to your house. 
I’
m going to fuck you so hard, you wo
n’
t remember what sex was like before me and you wo
n’
t care.  It will be very painful, very nasty and very, very deliberately unforgettable.  S
o…
give me the keys and le
t’
s get going because the smell of your hair is making me absolutely crazy
.
”

              Her eyes squeeze shut.  His mouth moves over hers again, this time without any hesitation.  He presses her against the car, pulling her up against him and off her feet as he leans into her.  She kisses him back, her legs wrapping around his hips, her arms wrapping around his neck, no longer concerned about the keys she dangles in her hands behind his head.  He groans and shoves against her, his hands running up under her dress to her ass, squeezing hard, pushing himself into her.   She pulls away again and looks at him, in his eyes.  There is no tenderness, no love.  No fear.  He wants her, tha
t’
s all, pure animal desire.  She runs a gentle finger down his cheek, imagining tears, imagining this man cry, and he jerks, startled and confused.  A small smile plays on her face as she remembers Julian, kissing her fingers, fighting his tears.  Scott heaves a great sigh and rolls his eyes, pulling himself off of her, knowing when he is defeated. Scott smiles, a sad, regretful smile.
 “
Another one escape
s…
I need to get faster shoes
.
”

              After searching frantically throughout the house, he spotted them from his living room window, making out against her car.  Pushing past a startled crowd, one of which was Sharleen, he raced outside without a word.  Scott sees the look on Alic
e’
s face, a look of confusion and horror.  He turns, his back up instantly, ready to protect her, but too late.  Julia
n’
s fist plants itself against his cheek before he can react.  He hears a far away scream, sees shards of white light shooting out in every direction.  He feels his feet give, his body flying against her car, and then he breathes, exhaling.

“
Jesus Christ! Julian, what the fuck!
?
” Alice screams, shoving Julian back.             

              Julian glares down at her, his face contorted with rage.  She rushes to Scott, who pulls himself up, holding his cheek and laughing.

“
Are you okay
?
” she asks, holding him.

“
Yeah,
I’
m alright.  Lucky for me he knows how to hold his punches
,
” Scott grumbles, glaring up at Julian.  Julian shifts his weight, his chest heaving.  From the house, people make their way to the porch but do not come closer.  Scott rises to his feet calmly, and moves before his friend.  His eyes glitter, his cut lip bleeds.  He licks at it, spitting blood.

“
I do
n’
t think
I’
ve ever seen an actual real emotion out of you until now
.
”

              Julian stares at him, challenging, and yet ashamed at his display.  Scott laughs and touches his jaw gingerly. 

“
Do
n’
t worry about it, man. I forgive you because I know you love m
e…
i
t’
s all good. Tha
t’
s what brothers do
.
”
 
He steps up to Julian and hugs him, quickly, tightly, and, as he pulls away, whispers
,“
But the next time you hit me, I
will
beat your ass,
brother
.
”

              He moves slowly towards the house, holding his face.  Julian shifts his gaze back to Alice.

“
Why the fuck did you hit him
?
”

“
What the fuck were you doing
with
him
?
”
“
Okay
,
” she laughs, holding up her hands
,“
hold on a minute.  Le
t’
s forget, for a second, that tha
t’
s totally none of your business.  What makes you think i
t’
s okay to lay your hands on someone else?  I mean, who
acts
like that?  Like some fucking thug?  Really
?
”

“
Tha
t’
s pretty good
!
” he laughs.
 “
Why do
n’
t we ask Anthony what kind of person
lays hands
on another person
!
”

“
Fuck you, you do
n’
t get to judge me
,
” she says, dangerously low.
 “
Get that straight right now
.
”
              He stares at her, his mind reeling, out of control, suffocating from the night and everything leading up to it.  He remembers only faintly now his realization that she was in love with him and how he had treated her.  He blinks rapidly, struggling to focus.  This is not the right conversation, he thinks.  But his adrenaline is spiking.  He ca
n’
t stop himself.

“
I do get to judge you.  I do.  You know why?  Because tha
t’
s my friend you about to fuck-and, unlike you,
I
know him. H
e’
s a scumbag, a total misogynistic whore.  And you were gonnafuck him.  You walk around here with this fucking holier-than-thou attitude, looking down on my friends and girlfriend, sulking in corners at parties and clubs because yo
u’
r
e‘
too rea
l
’ to fit in, and your life is sooo much better, so much more honest and exciting, right?  And then the first time someone
in
my world, someone who is the poster boy for fake, who uses that fakeness to exploit and womanize, everything you supposedly turn your nose up at, the first time someone like that shows you any kind of attention, yo
u’
re all over it like a fucking virgin freshman at the senior prom.  So, yeah, I think I do get to judge you.  I
t’
s about fucking time
.
”

              She steps slowly up to him, her arms folded, her gaze unwavering.  He knows, even before she has opened her mouth, he has lost.  He knows, unequivocally, he is completely in love with her.

“
And how
,
” she whispers, her eyes narrowing
,“
do you judge me?...Am I a whore?  A slut?  Tell me.  What is it that you think of me
?
”
              He stares down at her, longing to grab her and kiss her, hold her against him.
 “
No, none of those things
.
”
“
Then what? Why is this sucha big deal?  Is it because someone like me does
n’
t belong with someone like you?  Tell me
.
”
 
She stares at him, her eyes large and child-like.

              And then, quite suddenly, quite shockingly, she shoves him, hard, throwing him off balance.
 “
TELL ME
!
” she screams.
“
Am I the help?  Am I some second-class citizen you took in to your home out of pity, after seeing my shit, pathetic life?  Did you take me to those parties and clubs because you
felt sorry
for me?  Do you think of me as a maid? A token?  TELL ME!  Am I a fucking dishrag to you, a fucking dishrag to slop up your fucking mess?  Let me get your clothes, pay your bills, make your food, even though I
hate
fucking cooking!  Let me drive you everywhere like a goddam chauffeur!  Let me, please, let me fucking
serve
you, like all the other women in your life!  Tha
t’
s what you think, right?  Tha
t’
s how you can kiss me like you did that night, tell me those things, get me to
trust
you, and then treat me like a fucking servant the next day!  Worse than a servant, way worse. 
I’
m nothing but a fucking dishrag to you.  And i
t’
s my fault,too, I let it happen.  I let it happen again, I let it happen again
!
”
 
She is sobbing now, shaking her head.

              He grabs her and pulls her against him, panicked at the sight of her crumbling.  He squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face in her hair, holding on for life, trying desperately to be enough even as he fails miserably.  She shoves him away again
,“
NO!  No more,
I’
m done.  This, whatever this is, i
t’
s done
.
”

              She stands for a moment, staring at him, before leaping in her car and tearing down the driveway.

              The sun flitters through the curtains, the breeze billowing them gently above her, caressing the parts of her not wrapped in a white, down comforter.  She watches the ceiling fan spin in a slow, lopsided motion.  Dirt Bag snores softly by her head, snorting every now and then, twitching his hind legs against her head as he dozes.  She absently reaches up to him and scratches his sides until he settles.  Her phone vibrates.  She picks it up and glances at the number.  Her eyes well, she sighs and tosses the phone.  A few moments pass, the phone vibrates again.  Slowly, she drags her body upright, running her hands through her hair.  Dirt Bag lets out a long, low moan and rises as well, circling around her pillows before finding a spot and curling up once more.  She picks up the phone and stares hard at Julia
n’
s stern glare.  She hit
s‘
answe
r
’ and puts the phone to her ear, but does not speak.

              There is a long pause when neither speaks.  He knows she has answered.  After obsessively calling throughout the morning, he did
n’
t actually think she would.  Now that she has, he is unsure how to begin.

“
Alic
e…I’
m so sorry
,
” he whispers. 

              She sighs and scratches the do
g’
s head.
 “
I know.  Me, too
.
”
“
I did
n’
t mean what I said or did.  I was out of control
.
”
              She does
n’
t answer him.  Her hands cover her eyes, she squeezes them shut, knowing there is nothing he can say.  Things will never be the same.

“
Are you there
?
”
“
…
Yeah, I am.  Listen, Julian, I think we need a few days to decompress.  You start work tomorrow,you need to focus on that.  And I jus
t…
need some time, okay
?
”

“
…
Okay.  That sounds alright.  A few days sounds alright.  But w
e’
re okay, right?  I ca
n’
t-I have to know yo
u’
re okay, you know, after all that.  Alice, you have to know you mean more to me than a servant
-
”

“
I know.  Julian, I ca
n’
t talk about this right now.  Give me some time.  Take care, okay? 
I’
ll call you soon
.
”
              She wanders through her tiny apartment, mentally packing and preparing, wondering if she has the courage to actually leave for good.  The comforter drags behind her, Dirt Bag runs and hops on her couch, scratching obsessively once he is there.  She plops down and stares at the obnoxiously large screen, her reflection staring back at her.  Slow tears run down her face as she recalls the night he returned from New York.  The night he held her, sleeping against her the entire time.  She remembered feeling so uncomfortable, so on guard.  She knew it then.  Anyone else, Trina, Will, Chris, even Anthony, she would have slept like a baby, sprawled everywhere, taking up as much surface as her nocturnal self wanted.  But lying with her back to him, the room stretching to infinity before her into a dark abyss, she felt nothing but terror.  Her eyes were wide, her body tense, watching for any bit of light to guide her.  She curled up in a ball against him, stroking his arms, studying the abyss and wondering just how true it was.  Without looking back, without seeing him, she knew he was there, truly there.  Even in his sleep, his grip was relentless.  Still, she feared.  And she suddenly realized it was
him
she feared, or rather, the absence of him.  The next night and the night after, there would be no grip, no arms around her.  He would laugh and smile, joke with her, watch her with that adoring look he had just for her.  But he would not hold her again, and it would be like he never did.  The moment had aligned for that night, and that night alone.  Everything came together perfectly without her even aware that it would lead to them spooning.  And it would never occur again.  There would be no more of this heavenly, terrifying moment when she believed she could trust him, that he would always hold her. She would have to live with that lack.

              She cries and holds herself tight.  There is a light tapping at the door.  Dirt Bag instantly flies into a barking fit, charging.  She grabs him and shoves him back, her heart racing.  She quickly wipes her tears and straightens her hair before opening the door.

              Michael stands before her, wearing mirrored sunglass and a gray Polo.  His expression is neither friendly, nor contemptuous.  He holds his hands in front of him, grasping his cell phone and watching her fixedly as she scoops up the dog.

“
Mike?  Wha
t’
s going on
?
”
“
Alice, can I come in? I need to talk to you.  I
t’
s important
.
”
              Alice moves uncertainly away from the door, allowing him to come in.  He stoops through the entrance and removes his glasses, surveying the shit hole while suppressing his disdain.  He moves to the couch and looks back questioningly at her.

“
Can
I…?
”

“
Um, yeah, sure.  Have a seat.  Do you want anything to drink
?
”
“I’
m good
,
” he sits and leans forward against his dark, sleek slacks.  The man looks incredibly out of place in such an environment, yet he shows no discomfort or self-consciousness.   Alice releases the dog, whoimmediately races up to Mike and sniffs his feet.  Mike scratches his ear once and ignores the creature that, sensing Mik
e’
s dominance, lies at his feet.  Alice pulls a stool from the kitchen and sits across from him.

“
So, Alice
,
” Mike begins
,“
I know this is a bad time.  But I think we need to talk about what happened.  I know you understand that Julian is a very important client of mine.  But I do
n’
t just think of him as a client.  H
e’
s not just business to me.  H
e’
s not just an investment.  I care about the guy, very much.  And
I’
ve seen, first hand, the hell h
e’
s endured trying to get to where h
e’
s at, where h
e’
s going.  Because I care about him, I want to make sure that I can take care of as much as possible when it comes to his life outside of his work, you understand
?
”
“
Yeah, I do
,
” she says.
 “
You mean like pimping him out to get him publicity, hooking him up with famous people to get his face plastered on junky tabloids instead of relying on his skill and good choices
.
”
              Mike raises his eyebrow at her and rubs his jaw.
 “
Tha
t’
s one way to look at it, sure.  Another would be trying to meet the needs of my workaholic friend by making sure he has access to the finer things in life, the finer people.  You see it as PR, tha
t’
s cool, it partly is.  But i
t’
s also, and mainly, about class association.  He runs in a very different crowd, and these are the women in it.  These are the men.  The
y’
re a network of artists and creators who, maybe lacking your idea o
f‘
street cre
d’
, are none-the-less extremely influential and essential.  Do you see where
I’
m going
?
”