Page 38 of Never Always
I cross my arms across my chest. “A dumb one. You can call your dick wet now. That would make sense. From my mouth.”
He lets off a throaty chuckle. “Do you want to make my dick wet by other means? No condoms? Is that where this conversation is going? The protection talk?”
Balking, I step back. “No, of course not!”
He narrows his eyes, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Because I get tested all the time and I’m clean. If you want to roll the dick dice and raw dog it, I can probably be persuaded.”
Now, I’m drunkandhorrified. “I don’t even know what language you’re speaking. But no thank you.” I square my chin, holding a proud stance.
“You sure?” He stands from the chair, towering over me. “I could paint the inside white.” Grange smiles wider when I open my eyes in shock, mouth hanging wide open. “Throw it in joe freestyle? Meat to meat? Catch some feelings? What do you say?”
I leap the distance between us, covering his mouth with my hand. “Shut up! You’re gonna summon the devil with that talk.”
His laugh is infectious though, and I find myself joining in his hysterics. “You offended every sensibility I’ve ever had my entire life in the last minute. I can’t take anymore. Adult speak, I’ve been on the birth control pill since I was seventeen to you know, help with my menses.”
Grange grabs me at the waist, his large hands engulfing my sides. “Ah, so this was the protection talk.”
I throw an unenthused face. “You are incorrigible. If that’s what you want to call it.”
His gaze trails to my bedroom door and then back to my face. “Let’s go fuck in the shower.” I swallow hard and butterflies flutter and flip in my belly. When I don’t respond he says, “Unless you’re too drunk and you’re worried about drowning? I can fuck you against the counter and then we can get into the shower.”
“You are so hilarious,” I deadpan. My cell phone starts screaming a shrill ring from my coat pocket. Grange releases me so I can grab the call. It’s Sue-Ellen.
“Oh, sweet heavens above, thank goodness. Have you seen the news, little sis? Another body. I don’t even know if we want to fly in to that damn horror film of a town you live in. My word, it’s so scary.” Grange must know by my face what my sister is hollering about because he turns on the television and immediately searches for the news.
Sue-Ellen continues on, telling me details that I’m also now reading along the bottom of the red bar on our local news channel. The newest victim’s face flashes on the screen and I have to close my eyes. A beautiful woman who was engaged to be married next month. Her fiancé is crying in an interview, recalling the moment he proposed. Her body was found in a cranberry bog just like the last one, wrapped in plastic. There was an S carved into her shoulder that the police are now saying is the serial killer’s call sign.
“This one has red hair. Red like yours, Tennyson,” my sister wails.
It’s unnerving, sure, but unlikely. “Sue-Ellen,” I say, alternating her attention from her hysterical mood. “There are one hundred three thousand women who live in Cape Cod. Please don’t be such an alarmist. Yes, the whole serial killer on the loose is kind of scary.”
Sue-Ellen interrupts. “Kind of? How can you say it’s only kind of scary? I’m not an alarmist, you’re an ostrich with your head in the sand.”
Grange is watching the news intently. I study his profile. “I have a big scary boyfriend who will protect me.” That shuts my sister up. Like, all the way up. She’s silent on the other end. “Seriously. I’ll be safe. My head isn’t in the sand. I promise.” I wait for her reply, but all I hear is breath. “You packed yet?” She’s the kind of person who plans out an outfit for every day of her trip and packs a week in advance. I add, “What are you wearing for Thanksgiving?” I’ve already told my family of our plans to eat at Corrick’s with his friends and they were all more than thrilled that there would be a group. I’m not sure if it’s because the conversation won’t be so dull listening to me talk about work, or if they’re legitimately happy I have friends that invite me to things.
Sue-Ellen takes the bait. “I found this red and brown plaid dress that is like flannel material, but the skirt of the dress has pleats. It’s like a flannel dress. It’s adorable. With some high socks and my brown leather boots. The riding boots, you know?”
“That’s going to look amazing,” I assure her. “Hey, I’ll see you soon, okay? I have to button up some things before work on Monday. My workload will be heavy because I want to take off Wednesday through Friday.”
“Okay, sis. I love you. Please be careful. Tell your big scary boyfriend that you’re a willful shrew so he can be certain to guard you well.”
I don’t need to tell him that, I think. He’s well aware. “I will. Love you.” I end the call.
“Two things,” Grange growls. “I’m your boyfriend?”
“Well, yeah, are you not? Figured that was a given at this point.”
He smiles. “I’m surprised you said it first is all.”
“And the second thing?”
“Your sister is right. This is getting pretty scary and that woman.” He nods his head at the TV. “She resembles you a lot. Serial killers have types, Tennyson. And now they’re releasing details about the crime scene, there could be copycat psychopaths coming out of the woodwork. You do need to be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” I say.
“You nearly got hit by a semi-truck today. Try again.”
“I thought we were going into the shower to not be careful?” I say, stepping back toward my bedroom.
