Fear and Loathing
Chapter 20
by Bridgid
Inevitably after every storm there's a moment of peace that can be so
beautiful, if not for the devastation left behind, no one would ever know about
the monster's fleeting presence. It leaves you wary. Is this they eye of the
storm? Is the monster hiding, dwelling beneath some bridge or something like
that? Could it be buried in the soul of someone you love, someone you think you
know?
Some gears changed between Bud and Lonnie, he saw her soft underbelly, the
frightened rabbit came out that even he, in one of his angry tirades, hadn't
exposed before. Maybe it was all building slowly in her, maybe the valve finally
couldn't take any more and it just fucking broke. Bud didn't have to think too
long on the fact that he could see light at the end of the tunnel. It was his
chance to convince her that it was time to throw in the towel, or the badge as
the case may be, though he didn't trust his eloquence in the delivery. He
practiced it in his mind and the results were always the same. It came out like
he wanted her, barefoot and pregnant and her saying go fuck yourself.
Why her? He thought as he watched her go through her usual ritual. Why did he
end up with her? It was a physical thing at first but the realization that he
was addicted to her was as obvious as a paper cut. He could feel it but it
wasn't big enough to see.
She hung her keys on the rack, slipped her jacket off and threw it in the closet
but she never seemed to remove the shoulder holster or the badge from her belt
right away, even leaving it on when she cooked dinner. Obsessed? Maybe she
needed the job in the same way he did. It was a replacement for all of the
missing things in her life. So, didn't he fill the voids a little bit? Wait a
minute. A penny dropped and the shoe slipped onto the other foot.
"What?" her voice brought him gently from his reverie and he blinked
"What, what?"
"What are you looking at?"
"You," he replied in a tender voice. Moving up behind her he placed his hands on
her forearms and steered her toward the sofa. He turned her around and removed
the badge from her belt first to set it on the coffee table. It was when he
began to unbuckle the shoulder holster that she protested.
"What are you doing?"
"I can't make love to you if you're armed."
"I'm not sure I want to now, I mean I don't feel..." Her hands covered the
buckles but he gently pulled them away. The kiss he insisted on giving her was
soothing at first but not for long. He knew her well enough and he could tell
the exact moment when her posture changed that she'd let him do it, so he
removed the holster.
"Day's over, Lon. You're home."
"Sound's odd, coming from you."
"I ain't getting any younger. I don't even know what a fucking rose smells like
so maybe I better stop and smell one."
Shoving her hands up under his shirt, she laid her head on his shoulder.
"They're sweet and beautiful and they come in a lot of colors but it takes a lot
of work to shave the thorns off sometimes. You gotta watch out for the pricks."
"You figure me for a prick, baby?"
She didn't answer him. He may have felt the tiny little nod but she couldn't
bring herself to say yes. There were better things to do with her mouth right
now. This day needed some sugar on top of it. He wanted to make love to her, she
wanted to get fucked. How about a compromise? The very thought of it battered
her moral sensibilities and it made her tremble. She felt anger, he smelled
fear.
"I can change," he murmured to the shell of her ear as his hand dropped from the
small of her back to the curve of her ass. He drew her to him, grinding against
her to show her exactly what she did to him. "I can change for you."
"No, don't, please," she whispered. "I deserve you and you've got me."
There was madness to the undressing before they fell together onto the rug in
front of the sofa. She straddled his hips and they battled as he turned her. The
leg of the table bruised her arm and the edge of the sofa brush burned his hip.
She wanted the top, he demanded the top. After several attempts he'd finally
won. Bud was bigger and stronger and now she was beneath him where he kept her
safe from bumping and bruising again. The coffee table was a full four feet from
where it had started and the couch now sat diagonally in the room Lonnie had no
more strength left. She raised her legs onto his hips and his hands that had her
wrists pinned to the floor now clasped hers in loving care. He raised his hips
and plunged into her with a claiming grunt but it brought with it a sigh of
relief.
They'd slept right there for a while, bundled together in an afghan her
grandmother had made. It was still dark when she woke up and padded her way to
the bathroom. She cleaned herself up as quietly as she could before making her
way back out to the living room. Bud was still asleep on the floor and she
tiptoed around him to get her gun and badge. She stopped to pull the afghan over
one of his feet that were exposed.
Prick! She thought to herself. You snore, you fart, and you confuse the hell out
of me. I don't want you around me. I don't want you telling me what to do or
holding my hand or worrying about me. I wish I'd never met you. I wish I never
came to LA. I hate what you've done to me. I hate...
There were no tears on her face as she got dressed for work. She slipped into
her holster and put her badge on as usual. Lonnie was standing in the kitchen
making coffee when he came in. He didn't bother getting his clothes on with the
exception of his shorts.
"You're up early."
"Yeah," she replied without turning around.
"Maybe we should have gone to bed. My goddamned back wouldn't feel like five
miles of bad road." He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck.
"Could have had something to do with the wrestling match too."
"Yeah."
Talk about a cold shoulder.
"Lonnie, what's wrong? The case is over with. I know you were scared but it's
over with. You wanna talk?"
"Nothing to talk about." She poured a cup of coffee and moved away. She stood by
the back door window and sipped off the rim of the mug as she stared out.
He moved up behind her but he didn't touch her this time. "Maybe there is
something to talk about. Lonnie, I know how much you love the job but maybe it's
time to think again."
"No need to talk."
"Quit."
"No."
"I can take care of you. I make enough money."
She sat the cup down on the counter and turned to face him. "What? Did you
suddenly go to charm school? Did you spend a few hours thinking this out?
Where's Bud? You're a fucking Ken doll. I don't even know you."
"You can't hurt me. I know what's going on."
"Bud, face it. Should we even be together? Should people like us be with
anyone?"
"Jesus fucking Christ. I'm trying here. Can't you see that?" He threw his arms
up and turned to take a few steps then he turned back and walked right up into
her face. "What do I have to do to make you fucking happy? Put a goddamned apron
on?"
"There's a picture. Where you gonna pin your badge?"
"Would you find some joy if I shoved it up my ass?"
"That's what you're asking me to do with mine!"
"It is not. Lonnie, you're burnt out. You got scared. Don't you realize that
once you get scared it's time to take a break?"
She calmed so suddenly it caught him off guard. In a smooth expert move, she
drew the gun from her holster and held it point blank between his eyes. Her
voice was cold as she raised her chin in defiance and spoke.
"Are you scared now? Are you afraid of me?" She cocked the hammer back.
The look on his face was smug and he shook his head. "Afraid of what? What's
your point? What have I got to lose? You? The job? Fuck you, baby doll."
"You get it now, don't you? It's not the job, Bud. I'll tell you what it is;
I'll add a little dividend for you." She lowered the gun and her fingers opened
one at a time until it dropped to the floor. Her chest heaved and she bit back
the plethora of emotions that addled her as she struggled to spit out what had
been plaguing her for the past couple of weeks. "Fuck you. I'm pregnant, it's
yours ... Are you scared yet, baby?"