Striving for Acceptance Page 2

  “That’s going to be hard to give up.”

  “I’ll survive. Guys aren’t the only ones who can masturbate.”

  It took a second for the realization of what she just admitted to sink in, but my mind immediately pictured her doing it on the counter. I needed to focus on the conversation; I could fantasize about her later. I cleared my throat and sat up a little. “You just tell it how it is, don’t you?”

  “Why waste time being anything else? I am who I am.” She stiffened when a patrol car drove by. The lights and sirens weren’t on, but she still had a reaction. “I probably should get home and let you get back to whatever it was you were doing.”

  “Did something happen between you and a cop?”

  “No.” She jumped off the counter and grabbed her purse. “I’m just tired, and I need to go home.”

  “Bullshit.” I didn’t move from the stool, but crossed my arms.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I never said it was. I’m just curious why you’re frightened of cops.”

  “What makes you think that?” She stopped moving toward the door but still gripped her purse.

  “You mean besides the fact you shake whenever they drive by? You can’t wait to get out of here every time you see one. You’re running from them.” I shrugged. “I’d like to know what you’re running from.”

  “Not everyone likes cops.”

  “True, but they have a reason.”

  “Look, they’re my reasons.” She messed with her purse.

  “They aren’t all bad.”

  She refused to look up. “I never said any of them were bad.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I wanted to question her more, but I didn’t think she’d tell me. It was obvious she didn’t trust much. That was something I needed to work on, but I needed to do it in a way she was comfortable with—straightforward and no bullshit.

  “Okay.” I walked over to her while she was concentrating on her purse, placing my hands on her hips and pulling her to me to whisper in her ear. “I’d really like to fuck you.” Her breath hitched, and I smiled when I walked away. “Let me know when you’re taking applicants again.”

  I jumped as pounding on the door startled me awake. “Mick, please tell me you’re in there!” Deb was on the other side of the door.

  The panic in her voice woke me up, and I rushed to open the door. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

  Her cheeks turned pink as she looked me over, and her lips parted with a small gasp when she looked down. I looked down, too. The boxers I wore to bed still covered everything, but they did nothing to hide the erection I had.

  “What? You’ve never seen morning wood before?”

  She looked back up to my eyes. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

  I shrugged. “It’s my morning.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “Well, then that’s why you can’t sleep at night, Einstein.”

  I rubbed my face. She was frustrating. “What did you come up here for, anyway?”

  “Oh!” She looked back down the stairs. “There’s something living in the shop and as lease-holder, you need to take care of it.”

  “Living?” I shook my head. “Like what, exactly? A bug?”

  “No. I deal with bugs all the time. They’re constantly in the dirt with flowers and plants. This is an animal.”

  “Just set a trap for it.”

  “I’ve tried. Believe me, I don’t want to ask anyone for anything, but this thing is too big for a trap.”

  “How long have you noticed it?”

  “A few weeks.” She raised her eyebrows, mocking me when I raised mine. “Look, the floor down there was littered with all kinds of crap. I didn’t realize some of it was fresh when I swept everything out. Then, I tried to take care of it myself. Apparently, it isn’t a mouse.”

  “You have my attention. What is it?”

  “Can you please throw some pants on or something?”

  I looked down at the tent, still in my boxers and smiled. “Does this make you uncomfortable,” I stepped closer, “or are you telling me it’s making you—”

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  She turned to go, but I grabbed her hand and led her into my apartment. “Come on. Tell me what happened as I get dressed.”

  She stepped in and looked around. “Well, I don’t have much experience in cleaning up after animals, so I wasn’t sure what was leaving little presents for me every night.”

  I put on my jeans and pulled them up. I moved my hand to tuck myself in and hesitated. It was better to turn my back to do that. I caught her smile as I turned. She was beautiful when she smiled; I wished she would do that more often.

  “So, what is it?”

  “Opossum.”

  I turned to her. “You’ve known for a while it’s—”

  “No! I just saw it this morning and ran up here.”

  I started for my gun, but I didn’t want her to know about that. She’d start asking questions I couldn’t answer, not until I found out why she was afraid of cops. I wouldn’t have her afraid of me. I grabbed my cell phone.

  I looked to the ceiling as the tires screeched out front and shook my head as I stood up. “Blake’s here.”

  “I think I’m going to like him.”

  I turned to her. “You haven’t even met him yet.”

  “Yeah, but he’s already getting on your nerves.”

  I held the door open and shook my head again as she walked out. Having them meet may prove to be a mistake. I walked down the stairs and smiled when I passed Deb standing halfway down. “That’s it? You’re not coming any closer?”

  Blake walked in and took a batter’s stance with the baseball bat in his hands. “Where is it?”

  Deb sounded appalled. “You’re going to hit it?”

  He stood and put the bat down by his side. “No, no, no. We’re going to have a tea party, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Look, sweetheart, I couldn’t care less what you do with the fucking thing. Just don’t get blood all over my shop or yours will be the next to spill.” She bumped him with her shoulder as she walked out.

  He stood there watching her leave, completely stunned, then turned to me with a huge smile. “You’ve got to keep her.”

  “She isn’t mine to keep.” I threw a pillowcase at him. “And we aren’t cops.”

  He grabbed my arm. “Wait, what?”

  “She’s afraid of the police. We aren’t cops.”

  “We need to talk, my friend.”

  “We will. Let’s just get this fucking thing first.”

  I walked out and shook the pillowcase to open it up. Deb narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to catch it with that?”

  I looked at the pillowcase and back to her. “Yes.” I put my hand on the bottom of it and pushed through, making it inside out. I moved my hand. “This is just to grab it and secure it until we can get it to the cage.” I pointed behind her to Blake’s truck. He had the cage open on the tailgate.

  “Oh. You’ve done this before.”

  “Not here.” Blake stood next to her and ignored my warning. I didn’t want him to tell her we used to take calls like this on our beat. “We grew up in the country and dealt with a lot of unwanted critters.”

  She crossed her arms and looked at us. “Is that so? Well, this should be easy for you.”

  I rolled my eyes at Blake’s obvious flirting and put my hand on her door. I looked in the window to see if I could see it. I didn’t want to startle it and more importantly, I didn’t want it to startle me.

  When I was sure the coast was clear, I started to open the door. I looked behind me and Blake was right there, bat and pillowcase in hand. We nodded and went in. I pointed to the counter Deb had said was the last place she had seen it. We both walked easy, taking our time.

  When he got around the corner, he turned and shook his head. I hadn’t expected it to still be in the same spot, but I was hoping. We headed to
ward the back.

  I paced out front while I waited for the guys to find that creature and get rid of it. It would be harder to carry things in on my own, but I couldn’t leave the door open anymore. I didn’t want to ask Mick for help any more than I had to.

  I looked in the window to see if I could see anything and just then, Blake burst through the door with a twitching pillowcase. I flattened myself against the building.

  Mick ran out ahead of him and held the cage. They fought to get it inside but eventually pulled it off. They slid the cage further up the truck bed and closed the tailgate. I relaxed a little when they burst out laughing.

  “Good times, huh?” I walked a couple steps closer and crossed my arms. “What’s so funny?”

  Blake cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “Guy stuff, babe.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Babe?” I shook my head and turned to go in. “Thanks, Mick.”

  Blake ran in front of me. “Hey, hey, hey. I helped, too.”

  “Yes, but as surprising as it is, Mick isn’t being an ass about it.”

  “Well, I was going to patch up the hole it came through, but . . .”

  I turned as Blake started to walk away. “What hole?”

  “Oh, there’s a small,” he used his hands to show a small circle and then he tripled the size, “hole behind your sink. I’m sure the family will be in soon to look for him.” He turned to Mick. “Good to see you, buddy.”

  “Wait. Okay, thank you, Blake.” I hated what he was doing, but I really needed that hole under the sink fixed.

  He turned and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  Mick stood off to the side and shook his head. “Go home, Blake. I’ve got it.” He turned to me. “We don’t need him. He’ll probably take out the sink trying to seal up the hole.”

  “Hey! I could be offended by that remark.”

  “Yes, but you’re not because it’s true. Go take your new pet to your girlfriend.”

  Mick turned me and walked me into the shop. I kept looking around. “Is he really taking it to his girlfriend’s?”

  “Yeah. She’s a vet. She’ll give it something so he can drive it out to the woods and let it go without getting attacked.”

  I looked around more. “Why don’t you just kill it?”

  “Why kill anything if you don’t have to?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. What a question to ask a killer. I startled when I felt his hand on my arm. “Don’t.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. When can we fix the hole?”

  “It’s secure now. I’ll make a permanent fix after I get a few supplies, but nothing’s coming in now. Are you okay?”

  His constant questioning about my well-being was starting to frustrate me. “I said I’m fine.” I looked at my watch. “It’s been fun, but I really should get going. I need to shower.”

  “You look pretty clean to me.”

  I shook my head. No one could understand the filth I felt every day when reminded of my killer status. “Yeah, well, I don’t feel clean.” I grabbed my stuff and walked out. “Lock up when you leave.”

  “What would you like to talk about today?” Joseph Hatcher was my therapist—when I let him be. He was a kind man with the patience of a saint. He was a few years older than me, with graying temples and laugh lines. We didn’t laugh in my sessions, but I was happy to see he had the lines anyway. I didn’t envy him his job.

  Therapy was difficult for me. It was difficult to admit most of the things I needed to in order to move on. If it hadn’t been for my mother, I probably wouldn’t have continued. I didn’t care what happened to me, so why should anyone else?

  “I’m not sure.” I looked out the window.

  “It’s been a year since you first started seeing me. Why don’t we go over some of the changes you’ve made this year? It can be a wonderful and positive session. I’d like you to leave proud of yourself today.”

  “I’ve done nothing to be proud of.”

  “You’ve come a long way from your first session. That in and of itself is something to be proud of. We’ve spoken extensively of your childhood and have even started to repair some relationships. You’re closer than ever with your sister, Rachael, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “You don’t think that’s something to be proud of?”

  “I guess I’m happy about it, but I don’t know I’ve done anything to be proud of.”

  “You’ve opened up and let her in. That’s wonderful.”

  “I suppose that’s true, but I don’t know about proud.”

  It was obvious Joseph had something on his mind as he sat and watched me. He was weighing the pros and cons of something, I just wasn’t sure what. “It’s time, Deb.”

  I looked at my watch. “I’ve been here that long already?”

  “No, I didn’t mean this session. We’ve taken the time to discuss your childhood and why you’ve felt the way you have. We need to move on to your adult life. We need to move on to your divorce and the relationship with Craig.”

  “There was no relationship with that man.”

  “Yes, Deb, there was, and you need to acknowledge that to move on. Do you want to move on?”

  “I have nothing to move toward.”

  “You have the rest of your life to move toward. You’re following your passion and becoming a florist. You’ve started a loving relationship with your sister. You have a great deal to contribute to society.”

  “Society doesn’t need flowers. It will still go on without me.”

  “Are you thinking of harming yourself?”

  I shook my head. “No, that isn’t what I meant. I’m sorry.”

  “The world will go on without any of us, but we have a lot to contribute while we’re here. You’re not seeing Al anymore. What about a relationship? Do you want to be married again?”

  “No. Marriage isn’t something I care about. I’d like to have someone like Al in my life to make it less lonely, but I don’t need someone there constantly.”

  “What reason would you allow yourself to have a relationship?”

  “Just for sex.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes. I don’t need conversation or dinner. I only need the one thing I don’t have—a dick.”

  “You can have that artificially. You don’t need a man to do that.”

  “It isn’t the same. You know it isn’t.”

  “You and Al never spoke? You never discussed your plans for the shop?”

  “Not really. Things would be mentioned in passing, but we never really held a conversation.”

  “You never shared a meal?”

  “We sometimes introduced food into our play, but never a dinner. It was more dessert.”

  “When’s the last time you had dinner with someone other than family?”

  “A couple weeks ago. The man I’m leasing from brought over dinner and said I was too thin. He’s brought a few meals over since then.”

  “How do you feel when you have dinner with him?”

  “Hungry. Mick’s a great cook. We don’t talk; we just eat.”

  Joseph cocked his head to the side. “You don’t talk during dinner?”

  “No. Why do we need to?”

  “What did you talk about with Craig?”

  I shifted in the seat. “Nothing that meant anything.”

  “Give me some examples.”

  I looked down and played with my thumb. “It was just the usual line of bullshit you’d expect to hear from an inmate.”

  “Such as?”

  “He would write me and tell me what a beautiful woman I was. He couldn’t wait for the day he would be free and we could be together.”

  “Tell me about the first time you met him.”

  “Deb, can you come here and help me get this lighting set up? Brad called in sick, and I’m running behind doing it myself.”

  “Sure.” I walked over and unfolded the legs on the tripod. “Wher
e do you want them?”

  “If you could just put them together and get them ready, I’ll set them around. I appreciate the help.”

  “No problem.” I looked around. “Do you have the extension cords?”

  “Shit. I’ll run out and get the box. Thanks for catching that before anyone got in here.”

  I finished setting up the lights and was making sure everything was secured. I didn’t want an arm to fall because I hadn’t tightened it enough.

  I tried to not look at him when he walked through the door, but I’d never seen an inmate in hand and ankle cuffs being escorted by a guard. I’d never even been to a prison before. The entire experience was new to me.

  My life so far consisted of babysitting and college. Aside from my husband, I didn’t really interact with anyone. The internship was a requirement for the degree I was trying to get or I wouldn’t have been there.

  “Sit.” The guard wasn’t very nice to the man we were there to interview, but I wouldn’t suspect someone accused of pushing his girlfriend down the stairs to kill his unborn child deserved much kindness.

  He turned to the guard, so I allowed myself to actually look at him. He was blond with an average build, more muscular than my husband but not as built as my brothers. I could only see the side of his face, but he was definitely attractive. He turned quickly and caught me staring. My cheeks burned, and I turned away.

  “What’s your name?”

  I ignored him.

  “There’s no need to be rude. I’m still human, and I have feelings.”

  “You don’t have feelings, Sullivan.”

  Craig Sullivan was on trial for killing his unborn child and assaulting his girlfriend, Drew Clayborn. It never went to the jury. He had just made a deal to plead guilty and we were granted an exclusive interview. He wasn’t someone I thought I would’ve crossed paths with.

  I kept my head lowered but moved my eyes to look at him. He dipped his head trying to look at me more and smiled. I looked away.

  “Well, whatever your name is, you’re beautiful.”

  Jason didn’t know what had just happened and came in saying my name. “Thanks again for catching that, Deb. They would’ve ripped me a new one with no power.”