Page 12 of Lust

Pocketing the silkiest pair, I toss the rest back into the wicker basket. Time to leave this place just as I found it. No visible signs of my presence, even though I’ve marked my territory.

The door clicks shut behind me as I exit the garage, and I try the handle to be sure it’s locked. I scan the neighborhood. All clear. I’m rounding the corner of the garage when I suddenly see signs of life. An older man wheels a dark green garbage can down to the street, right next to a mailbox that has ‘Hansen’ scrawled on it in bright white lettering.

Seriously? On Thanksgiving? Mr. Hansen waves to me as I pass, and I wave back, turning my head away so he can’t see my face. He looks like he’s in his late seventies, maybe early eighties. With any luck, he won’t remember seeing me at all. Oh well, what’s done is done. Time to ditch this car and get a new one. I’ll have just enough time tomorrow morning before my father‘s funeral.

I wait in the car until the old man’s front door closes behind him, then reach into the glove compartment for the little box that waits there. I haven’t wrapped it yet. I wanted to see the gems one more time in person before the cameras show them in Ruby’s pretty little ears.

The box opens silently, and I angle it so the gems catch the sunlight. Beautiful. Just like their namesake.A perfect way to show my queen how much I value her. I snap the box shut and pull a sheet of wrapping paper out of a bag on the passenger seat. The paper shines like sparking rust in the sunlight, and I use my pocket knife to score an edge along the paper before cutting a perfectly straight line through the stiff, shiny paper. I set the box onto the paper, then find where each crease should be and score the lines before folding them, making each fold as pristine and flat as possible. Once the paper’s been taped into place, I wind a shiny wine-red ribbon around the little package and fasten a metal tag to one of its trailing ends.

Merry Christmas, Gorgeous.

My sister Linda never lets me wrap presents when she’s around. She says I’m painstakingly slow. But no one has ever complained about the final product. See, that’s the thing about perfection. Everybody loves a perfect outcome, but people often chafe at the process required to reach it. Once I have Ruby fully for my own, all the moments of my life leading up to that perfect outcome won’t matter one bit. Regardless of what I have to do to get there.

When I’m satisfied that no one else is planning to take out the trash or go for an evening stroll, I saunter over to the Jackson’s mailbox and pop my little gift into the dark void, now pregnant with possibility. Santa came early this year, Ruby, just for you. Once I have my way, he‘s going to keep on coming. And these days, I always get my way.

Chapter 6

November 29th

Ruby

Islipinthroughthe employee entrance at Henchley’s hoping to blend in with the Black Friday crowd. The annual shopping frenzy started at five, but Brent’s dad was hospitalized for another stroke after Thanksgiving dinner, so we didn’t leave Hawk Ridge until four am, and I’m three hours late for work.

Despite my excuse, Gary insists we meet in his office.

“There are ways to get ahead at Henchley’s,” he says, stale coffee breath wafting across his desk. “Being late isn’t one. I expect you to show me how much you value this job.”

He circles the desk slowly. “I can’t wait to see how ambitious you are, Carol,” he whispers.

The hairs on my neck stand on end.

He palms my hip, and his fingers dig into my flesh. As I dodge his grip, a guttural groan sounds from his throat. Like a pig rooting in mud.

Bile rises in my throat, and the banana I choked down for breakfast churns in my stomach.

“I have to get to work.” Stumbling backward, I feel for the doorknob behind me.

Gary’s nostrils flare, and he nods curtly.

I flee without daring to look for a bulge in his pants that would tell me he’ll be on a “business call” for the next ten minutes.

When I finally catch up with Manuel a few hours later, he’s shelving men’s ties in little white cubbies.

“Gary can go fuck himself.” I pluck a piece of lint off a fuchsia tie and tell him about our boss’s advances.

“If he’s pulling that shit with you, what do you think he’s doing to other women?” He points to a pretty young coworker. “What if he’s touching on Lucia? Would you forgive yourself for keeping quiet?”

Memories of another young girl come to mind, a girl who barely looked eighteen, glimpsed beyond the crack in a door. A shudder runs through me, and my teeth grind.

Keep it together.

“You okay, Carol?” Manuel’s fingers snap in front of my face. “You zoned out again, honey. Come on. Lunch break.” Grabbing my arm, he steers me toward the door, signaling to Lucia that we’re taking our break.

“Noodles?” Manuel marches us to the food court.

“I could go for a burger.” I point to In n Out. “Animal style.”

“You know who else could go for it animal style?” Manuel imitates Gary’s snort, then glances over and bites his lip. “Too soon?”

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