Scaredy Cat (12 page)

Chapter 20

Blake suppressed a burp as she sat at her computer. She’d eaten way too much but could not make herself stop. She felt painfully stuffed, and still she looked forward to nibbling some of the leftovers as a snack later on. She peered over her shoulder and found Quinn sprawled out on the couch, one leg stretched up the back of it, an arm over her forehead as she stared at the TV totally engrossed in a movie.

She’d told herself that it was a character study, but in truth, Blake just liked looking at Quinn. She liked the way Quinn absentmindedly toyed with the string in the waistband of the blue cotton pajama pants she wore covered in the emblems of sports teams. Blake also liked the oversized T-shirt and the fact that Quinn wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it. The soft rise of a nipple through the fabric drew most of her attention.

Quinn was sweet and attentive. When they’d first met, Blake thought her pushy and impatient. She wasn’t sure when the subtle shift of her opinion had occurred. It might’ve been when they hugged on the platform. The close contact with Quinn’s body had caused a visceral reaction that stayed with her even as she sat in front of the computer.

She realized Quinn the character wasn’t really her creation at all. There was no difference between the two, except on Blake’s screen, she could manipulate Quinn into doing what she was beginning to want in reality. She’d never really written sex scenes into her books, and the one she was currently working on wouldn’t be any different. Blake had begun to write something erotic anyway. The separate file would be for her eyes only, and as soon as Quinn drifted off to sleep, Blake would turn her imagination loose. Her fingers would tap out every desire she wanted to experience in the flesh.

“Is the TV disturbing you?” Quinn asked.

Blake blinked, feeling embarrassed for being caught, and turned around. “I was just thinking…sometimes I have to look away from the screen or the temptation to edit will break my train of thought.”

“I’ll be quiet then.”

“You’re fine. Knowing that you’re here makes me feel relaxed. My mind really…goes places. When you get sleepy, you should go get into my bed. It’s much more comfortable than the couch. I know, I’ve slept on both.”

“Thank you, but that’ll mean you will crawl onto this couch in the morning when you’re ready to sleep. I want you well rested for tomorrow. I’m dreaming up hurdles.”

“I already thought of one. I’d like to meet your brother and his wife. We could go somewhere and have dinner like normal people do.”

“You are normal. Are you serious about this? I need to text him so he doesn’t make plans.”

“I am,” Blake said with a nod, a slight bit fearful that Quinn would have her skydiving if she didn’t suggest something more mundane.

“I’m gonna call him instead,” Quinn said excitedly. “Want me to go in another room?”

Blake grinned. “No, I’m just daydreaming right now.” She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of Quinn’s voice.

“Hey, were you asleep? I don’t care, listen up. The author Blake Taylor would like to know if you and Tonya would like to have dinner with us tom— Don’t do that in my ear! Stop, your voice is so high I can’t make out the words…breathe. Hey, Tonya, did you understand him? Well, Blake Taylor has invited y’all out for dinner…Tonya…no, not now, tomorrow night…Tonya? Jacob…dude, one of you has to calm down…give the phone back to your wife. Blake, what time do you want to go?”

Blake turned around and shrugged. “Seven?”

Quinn put the phone back to her ear, then abruptly pulled it away. She rolled her eyes and said, “Hey! Yes, I was talking to
her
. Stop screaming. Seven, be ready at seven, we’ll pick you up. Good night.” Quinn tossed the phone onto her lap and pinched the skin of her forehead. “I should’ve just texted.”

*******

Sometime after midnight, Quinn released a soft moan as she turned over. The sound of it sent chills down Blake’s spine, and she had begun to sweat a bit while she brazenly wrote out every last detail of what she wanted to do to Quinn. She’d never written anything so explicit. Her skin was flushed as she read over the words she dared to put on the screen. She was under the influence of an arousal so strong that she feared she might act on impulse. Blake refused to turn around and look at Quinn. She feared a great many things, lacked fortitude that most people took for granted, couldn’t even hail a cab, but Blake had learned she was not afraid of sex. All she required was the slightest welcome, and it was on.

Beth’s signal had been clear, and Blake had stunned her with an immediate response. It was the only time in Blake’s life that she’d felt smug. The seductive smile on Beth’s face turned to an expression of shock when Blake ripped her blouse open, then want filled her eyes when Blake pulled Beth into her arms. Sex between them was hot, volatile, and as Blake thought back on it, probably the only reason Beth came back so often.

“You have all this passion pent up inside you and no way to let it out,” Beth whispered.

“Until now.” Blake smiled contentedly as she ran her hands through Beth’s hair as she lay with her head on Blake’s chest.

“If you were to venture out of this building, step into life, I would become only a memory.”

“That’s not true,” Blake proclaimed.

She’d not known then that she was lying to them both. Beth did, though. Perhaps she’d felt it in Blake’s touch or saw it in Blake’s eyes that all she had to offer was passion. In the end, it could not sustain.

The woman sleeping behind her was far too special to toy with. Blake highlighted the file she’d just written and hit delete. She didn’t want to live vicariously on the screen. Blake felt that a real story was gradually unfolding between her and Quinn. She didn’t want to only experience it in her imagination. So she changed the names of her characters to Carrot and Parsnip until she could think of something else more suitable, and she began to write.

*******

“Blake, wake up.”

Blake was sitting on the edge of a well. Muted light shimmered on the water below that seemed so far away. She felt herself leaning toward it. Her mind warned her to stop, but her body, with a will of its own, just kept right on. Strong arms unseen reached beneath her arms to stop the descent. Blake could feel the warmth of the body but could not comprehend how something that felt so tangible could be invisible and be between her and the water. Warm breath caressed her ear as a voice whispered, “Wake up, sweetie.”

With a gasp, Blake awoke, her chin on Quinn’s shoulder, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Her feet felt numb and heavy, she couldn’t move them. Quinn stroked her back soothingly.

“I can’t believe you fell asleep in this chair. When I woke up, you were leaning forward like you were about to fall on your face.”

Blake wrapped her arms around Quinn. “I think there are ants in my socks.”

“Your feet are probably asleep. I’m gonna slip my hands under your thighs and lift you up. Just hang on.”

“Just give my feet a few minutes. I can wa— Whoa!”

Their chests were pressed together. Blake could feel Quinn’s laughter, the swell of her breasts. “You are light as a feather,” Quinn said as she carried Blake down the hall. “It’s just five in the morning. Sleep for as long as you want to. I’m going to the bathroom after I drop you off, then I’m going back to the couch where I will go back to sleep, too.”

“You should’ve dropped me on the couch, it was closer.”

Blake released Quinn when her butt hit the bed, then she flopped back when Quinn grabbed her feet and lifted them. “You are so easy to toss around, I bet I could make a jump shot with you as the ball,” Quinn said with a chuckle.

“I’d prefer that you didn’t put that into practice.” Blake held up a hand when Quinn reached to switch off the lamp. “The sun isn’t up yet.”

“You’d sleep better without that light in your eyes. I’ll leave the hall light on.”

“I’m not ready to cross that hurdle.” Blake grimaced as more circulation returned to her feet.

“Is this what’s bothering you?” Quinn grabbed one and began to rub.

“Ow…Ouch.”

“I’m rubbing very gently. Do you have something wrong with your feet?” Quinn ripped a sock off before Blake could reply and inspected the foot in her hand.

“I was saying ouch in preparation for it to hurt.”

Quinn stared at Blake, her face blank. “But it didn’t…did it?”

“No, but it could’ve had I not said something.”

“You never cease to amaze me, and before you ask, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Quinn dropped Blake’s foot onto the bed. “Tell that creative mind of yours to go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to trade places with me?” Blake asked as Quinn stepped into the hall.

“Positive. Sleep well. We’re going skydiving later.”

“That’s what I thought, and fuck no.”

“Joking,” Quinn said, her voice fading.

Blake whispered, “I need to learn how to drive, so I can escape should you suggest swimming with sharks.”

Chapter 21

“Are you scared?”

Quinn kept her gaze averted and shook her head.

“I need you to look at me and say it.”

Quinn tilted her head to the side as she turned, her eyes on Blake. “A little.” She put her hand over her mouth and laughed. “You can’t sit that close to the steering wheel. There’s an airbag inside of it. If you were to hit something, it would deploy and… Just scoot the seat back a couple of notches.”

Blake wiggled around, managed to grab the bar, and slid the seat back. “This truck is huge.”

“It is, but if you learn how to drive this, a car will be a breeze. Now what we want to accomplish today is you getting used to the operation of the vehicle.” Quinn stared down the dirt road. She’d picked the one where her father had taught her to drive. There were no ditches, and the trees were far enough away that she didn’t have to worry about Blake slamming into one unless she got a little crazy with the accelerator. “When you’re ready, take your foot off the brake, put it on the gas pedal, and press it gradually down. “Keep your speed—”

The rear tires dug into the earth, and the truck lurched forward before bouncing to a stop. Blake released a sigh that sounded more like a whimper. “Okay, that was great. I think I’m done.”

Quinn wiped her hair from her eyes. “Yeah…you got a little taste, but the next time, a little less gas. That’s it,” she said when the truck began to creep along. “I’m just curious. If you didn’t drive, how did you get back and forth to school?”

Blake had a death grip on the wheel; she stared straight ahead, doing a whopping five miles an hour. “My mother drove us, or sometimes we rode the bus, depending on where we lived.”

“I mean college.”

“I never went. I barely graduated high school. Technically, I didn’t. I took the GED when I was sixteen.”

Quinn was stunned. “I would’ve never guessed that.”

“I hated school. I felt so frazzled and awkward that I couldn’t concentrate, and my grades lagged as a result. About the time I began to feel remotely comfortable, we’d be packing up to move somewhere else. I was shy, and in high school, I realized that I was gay. Though no one knew, it just felt like the divide between me and the others grew even bigger. One morning, I just refused to go, and I suppose my parents realized that since I was failing in every subject but English, allowing me to drop out was the best course of action.”

“How’d you learn to write?”

“Reading. I was a voracious reader. I’d read the story first for pure enjoyment, then I’d go back and study the technique. When I decided that I wanted to write, I amassed every book on the subject that I could.” The truck rolled to a stop, and Blake just sat there staring out the windshield. “I still remember the day that it all just clicked. I was so caught up in the mechanics that every attempt I made was choppy and stilted. I was trying to write about how my life was so messed up, but on that day, I just let the restraints on my imagination fall away, and it all began to flow. My first book took a month to write, a year to edit and fine tune. Dad had been hounding me to find a job, but when he read what I’d done, he stopped.”

Quinn slid the gearshift into park when Blake’s hands slipped off the wheel. She appeared to be so deep in her memories that she was unaware that she was supposed to be driving. Her foot was at least on the brake, but Quinn feared that Blake would forget that, too. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was behind them and asked, “Did you submit it to a publisher?”

“No, I went to therapy because Dad thought I was insane after reading what I wrote.” Blake smiled. “It was dark and twisted. The therapist, however, read it, and with my permission turned it over to a friend of his, Cassidy Spencer, an agent for Castillion’s press.
Dark Renderings
didn’t do very well. I made next to nothing off the sales, but Cassidy said she saw promise. I had a job, low paying, but it was enough to make my parents happy. They supported me as I continually pounded out books. The one that took off shocked me because I really had my doubts about it.
Unwelcomed
soared to the top of the charts, and I felt like I could call myself an author. Everything changed after that.”

Blake inhaled sharply and seemed to break out of her haze. She turned to Quinn and asked, “What’re we doing here?”

“You asked me to teach you how to drive,” Quinn said flatly. “It fascinates me how you can go so far away in your head like you’re in a trance. You did it a couple of times when you were writing. You’d just turn and stare at the wall. The first time I noticed it, I spoke to you, and it took a long time for you to come back. Where do you go?”

Blake shrugged. “Everywhere. I’ve always done it, even when I was little. Mom told me she used to worry that I was having seizures. She’d snap her fingers and get no response.” She smiled faintly. “I learned to control it after she took me to the doctor a few times. The diagnosis was termed ‘profound daydreaming.’ For me, it’s just like watching a movie. Sometimes I control it, sometimes I simply watch.”

“What do you see?”

A smirk formed on Blake’s lips as she looked away. “I can’t tell you.”

Quinn laughed. “Drive, smart-ass.” The engine of the truck revved, but it didn’t move. “Put it back in gear, but put your foot on the brake first. And this time, go a tad faster—not that fast. Blake, let off the gas,” Quinn said loudly, trying not to scream as she grabbed for anything she could hold on to. “Find a medium between crawl and Mach one.”

At forty miles per hour, Blake was all over the road as she tried to get accustomed to the steering. “How am I doing?”

“In this country, we drive on the right. Stay in your lane.”

“There is no lane,” Blake argued as the truck bounced through a pothole.

“Brake.”

“What?”

“I said brake not Blake.”

The truck skidded to a stop, and dust billowed around them. “I don’t think I’m meant to drive,” Blake said shakily.

“Remember how you told me that when you got used to the mechanics of writing, it just flowed afterward?”

“No, I told you that I ignored that and just wrote.”

“It’s the same concept,” Quinn rasped as she tried to appear calm. “Once you get used to the technique, it becomes second nature, so we…”
Oh, dear God
. “…we practice. Take off again.”

*******

Quinn felt positively seasick. The second half of the lesson was in an open field where people rode four-wheelers and motorcycles. The dry earth was rutted and made the ride bumpy as Blake drove the truck in circles and figure eights to get used to steering. The more she drove, the faster she went.

“This is great,” Blake said with a wide grin as she bounced them along.

“Yeah,” Quinn said. She dug her phone out of the center console when it began to ring and juggled it for a second. “Scott’s Plumbing.”

Blake thankfully brought the truck to a stop.

“Do you know where the main cutoff is? Okay, I’m not far from you. Give me about five minutes, and I’ll be there.” Quinn set the phone back in the console. “We’re gonna have to change seats. I’m on call, and there’s an emergency.”

Blake quickly vacated the driver’s seat, and they got out and switched sides.

“What kind of emergency?” Blake asked as she climbed into the passenger’s seat and fastened her belt.

“Patty Jenkins somehow broke the faucet on her garden tub. She says water is pouring out onto the ledge, and it’s flooding her bathroom. I’m sorry to make you have to go to work with me, but I’m on call, and this can’t wait.”

“I understand. I think it’ll be kind of cool to see you in action,” Blake said while she held on as Quinn navigated the rough terrain to the road.

*******

Blake intended to go inside with Quinn when they arrived at the house. She was feeling more comfortable with Chuck, but she sat rooted when a pack of dogs came barreling out of the shrubbery barking like they were going to eat Quinn when she hopped out.

“Stay here a minute, let me get the water cut off.” Quinn reached into the back of her truck and pulled out a long pole with a T bar across the top of it. She sprinted across the yard, fooled with something on the ground, then stuck the pole down into it. She made one twist and walked back to the truck.

“Patty’s dogs don’t bite, they just like to bark,” she said as she opened the driver’s door. “I need to get in there. Do you want to brave it and walk with me?”

The large dogs seemed too interested as they paced back and forth looking at the truck, occasionally releasing a bark. “I’ll wait here if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, again I’m sorry,” Quinn said earnestly. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” She grabbed a large canvas bag out of the back of the truck and jogged up to the house.

Blake watched as the dogs scattered, then flanked Quinn and followed her right into the house when a woman opened the door. Quinn had been heedless of them, and Blake wished she had the girl balls to do the same, then she thought about that expression. “Why do people equate testicles with being tough?” she wondered aloud. “They’re mushy and tender, the weak spot of a man.” She made a face. “Yuck.”

What she wanted was fortitude, and it wasn’t going to come along naturally. Blake was tired of sitting on the sidelines of life, she wanted in the game, so she pushed her door open. She debated stepping out. The dogs were inside, so then what was the point? Still, Blake felt if she could just put her feet on the driveway, she would feel that she’d accomplished a first step on her own. Minutes passed as she worked up the courage.

Something moved in the gravel out her line of sight, and suddenly, a chicken appeared on the ground between her and the door. “Shit!” Blake blurted out as she climbed up onto the console. The chicken stopped pecking at the ground and cocked its head to the side, staring at Blake with one curious beady eye. Blake waved her hands. “Go! You, go away!” The chicken had other ideas.

*******

Quinn hoped she had the faucet stem in her truck that was required to make the repair. If not, it meant a trip back to the office. Patty followed behind her as she walked down the hall.

“Is it bad? Will you be able to fix it? Is it gonna cost a lot?” she asked in rapid succession.

“I can fix it, I just need the right part. It won’t break your bank, I promise.”

Quinn and Patty walked outside, and Patty slammed into Quinn when she stopped abruptly, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. It looked like there was a tornado in her truck. Flashes of hands and something red whirled behind the windshield. Quinn took off running.

*******

All of Blake’s avian nightmares had come true when the chicken jumped right into the truck with her. It was fight or flight, and since her brain would not function properly and remind her that there was another door, she fought. That apparently pissed off the chicken. Someone grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the truck as Blake flailed.

“Come on, mother fucker!” Blake screamed as the chicken continued to bounce around the cab. “You want some more? I’ll kick your feathered ass in.”

“Blake, calm down, I’ve got you,” Quinn yelled, but in a fit of hysteria, Blake fought her, kicking at the air and the gravel to get free.

Patty was on the other side of the truck and managed to get a hold on the bird. It flapped and squawked as she caught it and tossed it on the ground. Indignant, the bird stalked off, and the dogs that had followed backed up to give her a wide berth.

Patty was apologetic, even though her chicken had been assaulted. Evidence was all over the inside of the truck as feathers wafted on the breeze through the opened doors. “I’m so sorry, honey. I hope Ester didn’t hurt you. She’s as mean as she can be, even the dogs won’t have anything to do with her. I’d kill and cook her if I wasn’t afraid she’d kick my eyes out. My grandbabies don’t want to come over here anymore because she harasses them before they can even get out of the car. Oh, you have scratches,” she said fretfully. “I’ll go get something to clean you up.”

Blake had stopped fighting, and Quinn released her hold to get a good look at her. Blake’s hair was a mess and sported a few feathers. Blood was oozing from a small nick above her right eye. Some of the scratches on her arms were lightly bleeding, as well. Blake didn’t seem to notice she was giving the chicken the stink eye as it walked around the yard.

“You took a beating, that’s for sure,” Quinn said sadly. “Are you okay?”

“Bitch chicken. That’s right, I’m talking about you!” Blake growled as she continued to stare at it. She turned to Quinn, eyes full of fury. “I kicked its ass. It came at me, and I punched it right in the jaw. I don’t remember much after that, but I’m sure I was winning.” Blake looked back at Ester. “I’m having chicken for dinner tonight. I’m gonna eat your momma! You better hide your eggs, bitch.”

“Okay, tiger, chill. Why don’t you sit down here until Patty comes back?” Quinn gently pushed Blake back toward the truck and helped her to sit sideways in the driver’s seat. She frowned at the marks on Blake’s arms. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you here alone.”

“Do you realize how pathetic that sounds? I’m a grown woman who can’t even sit outside in your truck without you having to worry?” Blake stuck a finger in Quinn’s face. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me and that fucking chicken.”

“But you beat her ass,” Quinn offered.

“I did.” Blake pointed at the yard bird. “I kicked your ass.”

“You’re the winner.”

“I am,” Blake said hotly, then blew out a breath. She glared when Quinn started to snicker, then some of Blake’s fire went out, and she started to laugh. “I punched a chicken.”

Quinn nodded as she laughed harder. “You’re a total badass.”