
She was out of my league, that was for sure. Not just that I had no chance with her. I mean I donât even think I was allowed to look at her, really. Not short, pudgy me, coming out of the Quick Mart, gas station hot dog in one hand, Slush Puppy in the other.
She was cursing, in a southern twang that went with her husky voice. What made me notice her then, and not before when my fat ass was too distracted by the promise of sugar and tubes of meat, was the way her tank top jumped when she kicked the flat tire. It leapt as her flip flop slapped ineffectively against the rim. The sight was near-religious for me.
I looked away before she could catch me scoping her out, heard her yell into her phone. âBabe, câmon! Itâs not like I ran over that nail on purpose! Donât be that wayâŠI donât know, Iâll call a cab orâŠâ
Iâd already tuned out by then, not eager to imagine the hunky, likely depressingly superior male specimen she was talking to. Iâd set my junk food on the roof of my Acura and was fishing for my keys when I heard her say âHey, excuse me? Excuse me!â
I wasnât trying to be rude. There was just absolutely no reason for her to be talking to me. I didnât realize what was happening until her voice, jarringly close, said âHey, hold up!â
I turned, chili dog in one hand, jumbo Slush Puppy in the other, the breeze emphasizing how desperately baggy my shorts and tee shirt were.
âHi,â she said, giving me a small smile. Auburn hair. Tan skin. Freckles on her nose, almost invisible under the halogens of the gas station. Every part of her lean, soft. I was almost hot enough for someone like her, once upon a time.
âHey.â I dropped into the driverâs seat, still under the impression that there was nothing this Homecoming goddess was going to need me to stick around for.
âWhere you headed?â
âUh…just, just home.â
âWhereâs home?â
I searched her eyes. They flickered down the road.
âThat way,â I told her, pointing down the highway. She lit up.
âOh, awesome! Can I get a ride?â She was beaming, already assuming she had her answer.
âWell, Iâm kind of low on gasâŠâ Youâd probably want to call me an idiot, but really, what chance would I honestly have had with her? Do you really think I was blowing anything?
âOh, Iâll pay you! Iâll totally pay you!â She swiped her hand like it was a done deal. âBut my boyfriend has the money, soâŠâ
âI dunnoâŠâ I said. Look, sex was not going to happen, okay? No matter what heroics I performed. Why go through the trouble when I already knew the outcome?
âPlease?â She made a pouty face, reached through my open window and grabbed my arm. The way she was bent over, I could immediately tell she was a B-Cup.
âOkay,â I agreed immediately.
***
She told me her name was Britty. I thought that sounded fucking stupid for anyone else who wasnât hot enough to instantly render men retarded. On her, however, it was perfect. She ran back to her car, reached inside, grabbed her bag. She banged her head on the door frame, and in her anger she kicked the car again.
âOW!â she screamed, immediately falling and grabbing her foot. Her face was scrunched in a look of pure agony.
I climbed out, jiggled over to her. I felt like a big strong man, despite my gut bouncing even more than my knees were. She was sitting almost Indian-style. The toe beside the big one on her right foot was swelling up.
âLooks like ya cracked it,â I said, hating how high-pitched my voice always was.
âCan you help me up?â She sounded so small and hurt I felt bad about the constant sexual thoughts I was having about her. She reached out her arms, wrapped them around my neck as I scooped an arm under her knees and shoulders and hoisted her up. Iâve carried heavier bags of groceries.
I got her into the passenger seat of my car. âThank you,â she said sheepishly, smiling an embarrassed but grateful smile at me. It made me feel like a hero, despite my complete lack of definition.
She curled forward, cupping her injured foot as I closed the door. I jingled my keys as I walked to the driverâs side, using the sound to distract myself from my jiggling gut.
***
She called her boyfriend, told him sheâd caught a ride with âsome guy.â Apparently he wasnât pleased with that. âDonât get that way. Jesus, you know thatâs not gonna happen. Ugh!â
Guess he was the jealous type. Whatever.
âSo how far to your boyfriendâs place?â I asked when she hung up.
âAbout twenty miles.â Sheâd taken some pills she had in her purse, and her foot seemed to be bothering her less now. She was leaning back, looking out the window, when suddenly she sprung forward in her seat. âShit! You have gas for this, right?â
I hadnât thought about that. Honestly Iâd just popped in because I have zero regard for what I put into my body. I checked my fuel gauge. âUh, yeahâŠprobably.â
âDamn, Iâm sorry! I didnât even thinkâŠâ She fished around her purse. âLet me get you gas, okay? At least a gallon for the drive? Would that be enough?â
âThis is a Prius. A gallon would get me to the next state.â
âCool. Pull in here.â She waved me into a Citgo, handed me a credit card. âI trust you,â she smiled, looking me in the eye, clamping the collar down hard on my sense of ethics. Ugly boys can do no wrong to pretty girls, and she knew it.
I took the card, got out, ran it through the slot on the pump. She told me her zip code, and as soon as I punched it in, the computer read âDENIED.â
âUhâŠit didnât work.â
âWeird. Try it again.â
I did. âNothing.â
âShit!â She opened up her purse and climbed out. She winced as she balanced herself on her injured foot, shifted her weight, and hobbled over to the ATM. She swiped her card, punched numbers, yelled: âWhat the FUCK?!â
She jammed in her PIN again, stabbing the keys like theyâd insulted her, apparently got the same response. âAHHH, GODDAMNIT!â
âEverything okay?â
âNo everythingâs not fucking okay? GODDAMNIT! GODDAMNIIIIIIT!â She balled her fist like she was preparing to punch the machine, but probably remembered her injured foot and dropped her arm. âMy moneyâs gone! MY FUCKING MONEYâS GONE!â
âFuck,â I said, as sympathetically as I could.
âI had two-thousand dollars in there! Oh no! Oh no!â Her voice had that whine that told me she was about to panic-cry.
âHey, itâll be fine. Just call the bank. Most of âem have fraud protection. Theyâll put your money back.â
She didnât seem convinced, but it seemed to comfort her somewhat. âYou think so?â
âTotally. Same thing happened to me once. Got my money back the same day.â
She pouted, scrunched her eyebrows. âIâm sorry I canât get you gas.â
âShit, donât worry about it.â
She hobbled back to her car, her foot clearly hurting her more than it was a second ago.
âYou sure you donât want me to take you to an emergency room?â I asked her.
âNo, Iâm fine. Iâll justâŠIâll have my boyfriend take me to the doctor tomorrow.â She made a small, sick sound as she pushed herself into her seat with her foot.
I filled up my tank, and we were back on the road.
***
Her foot was really bothering her. She was moaning in discomfort two minutes in.
âMaybe you should take a couple more, umâŠpills.â
She looked at me then, unsure if I was judging her or not. âIâm not an addict.â She didnât say it defensively. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
Well, I thought, that was unprompted.
âOh, no, I justâŠI mean, if youâre not going to the doctor about your foot until tomorrow, I just figured youâd want it to hurt less. Iâm pretty sure you broke something.â
âYeah, maybeâŠâ She was staring through the floorboard, trying to convince herself that she wasnât trying to convince herself. Finally she dug through her purse.
âIâm only gonna take a few.â She was telling herself, trying to make it sound like she was telling me. She spilled a small handful out of the bottle, rolled a few back inside, then tossed back the rest. She took out a bottle of water and took a deep swallow. When she put the cap back on, I smelled that it wasnât actually water sheâd just swigged.
She was completely out before I could ask her which road to turn off on. Shit.
***
It was completely dark when she started awake, taking a rushed breath and blinking her eyes. Iâd pulled into a paved lot for a hair salon that hadnât been built yet, waiting for her to rouse and tell me where to go. Sheâd been out for a couple hours
âShit! What time is it?â
âAbout eleven.â
âFuck. Fuck!â She dug out her phone, swiped her finger over the screen. She shook the knee of her good leg as she waited for an answer.
âHey Brian? Jesus, babe, Iâm sorry. Iâm on myâŠdonât be that way! Jesus! I hurt my foot and took something for it. See for yourself when weâŠthe fuck are talking about?! You fucking ashsole, you know I wouldnâtâŠwhat do youâŠ?â
She had a look of disbelief.
âWhat? You canât be serious! Babe, I would never do that! How could you think that? I told you! I hurt my foot! I took some pills andâŠBrian, please listen!â She was crying, sobbing actually. The kind of sob that hits you by surprise, so you donât have time to mask the panic. âNo! No! Babe, I moved all the way down here for you, why would IâŠbabe, no, listen! Why would IâŠbabe, please. No! No, Brian, IâŠ!â She looked at the phone, fear rising, swiped her finger over it, held it back to her ear. I heard what sounded like voicemail. She dialed again. Voicemail. Again. Answer this time. Couldnât make out the words clearly, but it sounded like Brian didnât want her coming home.
She started sobbing, bawling, and smacked her phone into the dashboard as hard as she could. I heard the screen spider web, and she hurled the little box through the window. She curled up, eyes against her knees, her tears making dark streaks across her jeans.
I sat in uncomfortable silence, not sure what would be the right thing to say. Obviously the plans had changed.
âWrong guys. I was pick the fucking wrong guysâŠâ
Abruptly she opened the car door. I assumed she was going after her phone at first, then I noticed she was dragging her bags with her.
âHey! Where you going?â
She sniffled, wiped her eyes, then in a disgusted voice she said âWell, obviously you donât have to take me anywhere now. But I appreciate your help.â
âWhat?â
âIâm gonna go. I gottaâŠI gotta go catch a bus or somethingâŠâ
âThe bus station is miles away! I canât let you out here this late! Weâre in the middle of nowhere.â
âItâs alright. I can make it.â
âBullshit. Your toe is broken. No way you can walk this highway like that.â
âIâll be fineâŠâ She sounded less sure, and glanced over her shoulder down the dark road.
âLook, let me take you to the emergency room.â
She shook her head. âI canât pay for it. I donât have any insurance orâŠâ She started crying again. Holy fuck, was she having a shit night.
âCome on,â I pleaded, figuring I was being more genteel than creepy. I wanted so much to help her out, to be enough of a hero for her that maybe, maybe, in some fucking way, she would overlook the fact that I looked like a pimply bag of shit. âWe have to get that foot looked at. You wonât make it far off the bus if it isnât treated.â
She seemed to be considering this.
âI canât leave you out here,” I told her. “I justâŠcanât, man.â
She smiled. Her eyes had that sad light girls get when something touches them.
âYouâre so sweet!â She said it to me like I was her fat-assed little brother. But I would take that over abandoning her any day.
She gave the highway another glance, then climbed back in. In another moment we were moving.
âYouâre just the sweetest thing ever,â she told me, her voice thick with her melted heart. In her tenderness, I had become simultaneously heroic and, consequently, devoid of sexual intrigue.
I could live with that.
***
The hospital was another ten miles. It was a sleepy, spread-out Georgia town. Nothing was a close drive away.
Sheâd taken some more pills for her foot. Fewer than before, but enough to put a dopey smile on her face. âYouâre so amazing,â she said, almost with a slur. âYouâre like, my fucking hero.â
I smiled. She scooched up, leaned over, gave me a clumsy kiss on the cheek. âFuckinâ knight in armor,â she told me, and started giggling. She fell back into her seat, punched me playfully in the shoulder. My arm rippled where she hit me. Everything on me was so loose nowadays.
She moaned, contented, wrapped her arms behind her head. âI feel so fucking safe around you.â
âIâm glad, Britty.â
She gave me a smile of instant friendship. âHey, whatâs your name?â
I shook my head. âYou probably couldnât pronounce it.â
âTry me!â
I shook my head. âItâs an old name. They donât really make the letters for it anymore.â
She scrunched her brows, shook her head. Tried to make sense of what I just told her.
âWaitâŠwhat?â
âHowâs your foot?â
She sighed. âStill fuckinâ hurts.â
âYou should take some more pills,â I told her.âI mean, what harm could they do now?â
âYeah,â she said, slick and lazy. âWhat harm could they do now?â
She tapped a few into her palm, swallowed them.
âSure thatâs enough?â I asked.
She smiled. âFuckinâ right.â She poured more, a small handful. She chased them with the rest of her vodka.
âSure thatâs enough?â she slurred back at me.
I smiled. âYou would know, wouldnât ya?â
She nodded. âShit yes, I would.â She drained the rest of the bottle.
âYou good?â
She leaned back, got comfy. âMm-hmm,â she murmured. âHey, where we goinâ anyway?â
âTo my place.â
âHey â but whatâŠâ
âDonât worryâŠIâm a gentleman.â
She laughed, barking and uncomprehending. âHa! YeahâŠfuckinâ knight anâ armorâŠâ
âYeah,â I said. âNight.â
***
She was still warm when I stopped the car behind my house. Her breath hissed out of her when I picked her up and carried her inside. Rotten floorboards threatened to give under my weight and hers. Light from the half moon peppered in through holes in the roof.
Sheâd died before her gag reflex could kick in. Thank Christ. I hated having to scrub out my car.
I hear my brothers smacking in the night. Theyâre hungry, but sheâs mine.
âNo, you handsome devils,â I tell them. âSate your lusting bellies elsewhere.â
They growl, irritated, but any of them would say the same to me. They would have no trouble finding prey. They’re so beautiful, all of them. Some could even slip into dreams.
But seduction is such a misunderstood art. There are other ways to break down the walls between prey and their trust. And itâs the trust we need. To feed. To fuck. Itâs the trust we take, so that we may live. The infinitely harmless can be as inviting as the sensuous nighttime lover. We all have our guile.
I kick aside the loose boards in the floor, step into the dark, flowing water. Country plumbing, in days before daylight could travel through wires.
I step into the rushing water, my bulk consumed by its chilly froth. I sink with her, down to the dark place others only see in dreams. My gorgeous brothers spread into the night. They only have so long before daylight robs their looks.
Demon lovers. Nightmare beasts. Forceful and potent. Lean and beautiful. Fat and hungry.