Page 187 of Felonies are Forever

The touch of his hand sends a zing of energy through me and I can’t believe I’m the only one of us that feels it. It’s palpable, making me nearly gasp like I’ve been zapped by a lusty sort of taser, and I stumble on the step down.

Jack’s arms are around me in an instant, my chest pressed against his side as my hands fly out to grab his iron-hard forearms.

“Sorry,” I half mumble, setting myself back right, looking up with an awkward smile. “Guess I have sea legs on land.”

“They’re great legs,” he replies softly, like he’s talking to himself. He clears his throat, brushing his hands down my arms, then nods down the dock. “Come on. I gotta take care of this shit. Then, we can go get something to eat maybe.”

“I’m not hungry.” He shoots a stern look at my automatic reply but he turns and starts lumbering down the wooden dock toward where voices and music drift on the breeze from a large white moored boat at the end of the walkway.

As we approach, a large man dressed in a tropical sort of shirt and black trousers throws his arms in the air when he sees Jack.

“You trying to cheat us?” he bellows, and Jack looks my way as we get close to the group on the dock.

“Wait here.”

His back is straight, shoulders back as I watch him walk toward the angry man. The customer is gesturing, talking louderthan necessary, like a scene fueled by a bit too much alcohol. Jack’s got that perfectly imperfect swagger, a little more weight on his left leg but there’s no hesitation. He’s fearless, calm and I can’t imagine not feeling safe with him, no matter what the circumstances.

As Jack and the man start to talk, a young woman wearing one of his red charter t-shirts and white shorts joins them. I listen to the sounds of the water, the boats in the slips swaying, hardware clanging on aluminum mast heads and seagulls squawking overhead, then wander a little closer, wanting to hear what’s going on, but more than that I just have this pull to be near Jack.

The conversation with the customer seems to calm as Jack taps a clipboard, showing the man something on the paperwork as a group of five younger men and women a bit older than me come stumbling off the boat, laughing and carrying red Solo cups. They see me as they approach and one of the guys smiles, holding up his cup.

I nod, realizing they probably think I’m part of the charter crew.

“We gonna get underway now the rest of the crew is here?” one of the girls asks. She’s wearing a skimpy, skintight pink and black leopard-print mini dress with Kat Von D eyeliner and Tammy Fae mascara.

“I’m not sure…I’m not—”

“Are you part of the crew?” One of the guys gets within a few inches of me and I can smell the alcohol on his breath, his eyes glazed as he sways unsteadily.

“No, I’m just—”

“Hey, hold on…” He doesn’t let me finish, narrowing his eyes then looking at the girl standing next to him. “She looks like that girl…you know. That one you make me watch all the time. Give me your phone.”

He holds out his hand and she pulls her phone from her cleavage, handing it over.

He taps the screen as some of the group keeps walking, leaving me with just the guy and pink leopard girl, who doesn’t say anything but is giving me the hard stink eyes.

“Yeah! It is…Look!” He holds the screen in front of pink leopard girl and her eyes dart from the phone to me, then back, then again.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” She eyes me up and down. “Where’s your Tutu?”

Oh shit. I close my eyes for a second. Not this. Not now. Not here.

He hands the phone back to the girl and closes the few inches left between us. My body clenches, heat covering me as the breeze swirls over my skin.

He raises his hands in mock karate chop sort of motions. “You wanna show me what you got? Or…” He moves his hands above his head like he’s going a pirouette. “You wanna dance?”

I shake my head, stepping back, blood rushing in my ears like a raging river. “No. I’m just here helping a friend.”

“He’s your friend?” The girl finally speaks, looking toward Jack, screwing up one side of her face.

“Well, he’s my friend’s father, I’m staying with them a few days.”

Why I feel the need to tell them anything is beyond me, but that ‘be nice’ voice of my mother’s has a far reach.

Staying with him I think to myself, but that’s not anything this half-baked duo needs to know.

“Show us some moves.” The girl gives me a sarcastic smile and the guy nods as she holds up her phone like she’s taking a picture or starting to record.

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