Chirp(11)
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I agreed to sex if he’d let me stay, but he rode off. What should I do?”
“Tell me what happened.”
Blaze told the story, finishing with the last detail. “It’s probably true. He’s been locked up a long time.”
“That SOB is trying to scare you,” Hanna reasoned. “He’s been out of prison for a year. I doubt he’s lacking in the sex department.”
Blaze stood and crossed her arms under her breasts. “He’s a jerk.”
“Yeah, well, maybe so, but he also owns the place. You have to decide if you’re willing to put up with him or not. After what you said, I’d say he plans to make you miserable. Do you need to stay with me?”
“No. He’s rude and doesn’t follow directions. I left a list, and he didn’t do hardly any of it. I cooked for him, and he inhaled it like it was his last meal and never even thanked me.”
Hanna laughed. “That may be the key. Do everything you offered—well, all but the sex. Cleaning. Laundry. Cooking. But don’t take any crap off him either. Oh, and tomorrow, bake him an apple pie. I remember it being all the Keller boys’ favorite.”
Rance
The Roost Bar and Grill was across the street from Bird in Hand gift shop, where colored umbrellas filled the windows and a sign advertised “It’s Raining Bargains All Week.”
If I have to have sex with you, I will. Rance sucked down his first beer and thought of the kid. She had balls. He’d give her that. Should have pushed the limits to see how far she’d go. But as much as he wanted her gone, he couldn’t mistreat her. Might be guilty of taking advantage of easy women, but he’d never abused a woman, and hated men who did.
He glanced around the room. Neon signs decorated the walls along with posters of past Bluebird festivals. Scarred wooden tables were crowded close together, and there was an open space at the rear for dancing. The aroma of cigarettes and Buffalo wings hung in the air.
The place was almost vacant, but most joints didn’t come alive until the sun went down. He belched and couldn’t help but smile. When he’d used the word pussy, she’d flinched, and her grimace proved she didn’t like the bad language or burping. Yeah, grossing her out, plus the threat of sex, made it the perfect plan.
As it got later, Rance watched the chicks gather: a Rhode Island Red, a couple of Leghorns, and a Bantam. All eyeing him. He should join the group, but decided to let nature take its course. Eventually one would leave the brood and head his way.
By ten o’clock The Roost was in full swing, and Rance had met Bantam chick, Kayla. A curvy brunette with ample breasts and a mouth that looked as if she could suck a peach through a straw.
As soon as she’d approached him and leaned those Texas-size ta-tas against his arm, he’d limited his alcohol consumption. Didn’t want it to affect the performance he planned for later. Plus he had to stay sober to drive.
As they danced Kayla stuck her hands in his back pockets and squeezed. A clear sign to take this party home. It was almost midnight when she parked her Chevy behind his bike. By the time they got to his bedroom, she’d stripped and started on him.
Blaze
The screeching, high-pitched sound woke Blaze with a start. At first she thought one of the cats was having a seizure, so she sprang from the bed and looked beneath it. All four felines huddled together. Janet growled as if warning a predator. Dianne joined in. Cathy and Peggy cowered.
Blaze rose, and the sound pierced the air again. She eased to the doorway. Maybe Rance was hurt. Stepping into the hall, she tiptoed halfway and stopped to listen. A low moan followed by short, shrill gasps signaled a woman and advertised her activity.
“Yes!” the female screamed. “Oh God, yes!”
Blaze’s cheeks burned. She wanted to run, but her feet rooted to the carpet. She pictured a blonde sexpot tangled around Rance’s muscular frame, long nails biting into his flesh while he pounded into her. Moments later he grunted, and the room fell silent. Blaze’s heart raced. Her body tingled. She’d never been this close to people having sex. Well, except for the time she’d done it with Kevin, and that had been an awful experience. What she’d heard didn’t sound unpleasant. She wasn’t sure how to describe it. Wild? Erotic? Pornographic? A word of the day she’d never used came to mind. Amatory. Yeah. That was it. Expressive of, or inciting sexual love or romance. At last she’d mark it off the list because there was definitely amatory going on in there.
Suddenly Rance came out wearing nothing but jeans, zipped but not buttoned. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. She held her breath and froze. Pressed against the wall, she squeezed her eyes tight and prayed he wouldn’t look her way. But when she opened them, he glared at her with a menacing grin that would rival the Grinch. He didn’t speak, just strolled into the kitchen.
His scowl uprooted her feet, and she ran back to her bedroom. She pulled the covers up to her chin and tried to sleep, but couldn’t. Three hours later she socked the pillow over her ears to drown out more amatory.
6
Hanna
Hanna stood in the doorway and stared at her son snuggled deep in the comforter, clutching his favorite stuffed animal, a horse with a missing ear. Most boys his age were into superheroes. He liked them, but with a name like Noah, it wouldn’t be right not to like animals better. Sunlight streaked through the window and bathed his angelic face in amber. He was such a good boy, and she wanted to do so much for him. Like get him a real pony. He’d asked for one last Christmas, and when Santa didn’t deliver, Noah didn’t cry. Said he figured St. Nick thought he needed to be a year older.