Sunday Morning: A Damaged Novella Read online

  Kirk glanced at the road where afternoon traffic zipped past. The world was oblivious to this moment, but I sensed something powerful happening. Kirk struggled with whether to let me walk away or push this connection between us. I didn’t think the decision should be a big deal for him. What would Kirk have to lose if I said no? How many of those trashy yet beautiful women at the strip club said yes every damn night? Kirk didn’t need me. I was replaceable in a way he could never be for me.

  Kirk hid behind his mirrored glasses, yet I felt him arguing with himself. His tension ebbed and flowed between us.

  “Let’s go for a ride,” he casually said, gesturing with his head for me to get on behind him.

  Though I didn’t understand why he struggled with the decision, I knew why I hesitated. Kirk Johansson was a man in every sense of the word. I’d played adult for a long, damn time, but this was the first time I really had to walk the walk. Kirk might break my heart, destroy everything about me, and then walk away like none of it mattered. Was I strong enough to face that possibility?

  Like Kirk, I struggled with whether one ride might lead to an ending I couldn’t handle. Like him, I gave into the curiosity I felt for our uneasy dance. Climbing behind him, I settled onto the Harley like a pro. Wrapping my arms around Kirk proved more difficult. I’d never touched a man I wanted before. Kirk was a dream come to life, and I feared waking up.

  5 - Kirk

  Jodi never felt like a kid holding onto me while we rode around Chesterfield. I told myself she wasn’t old enough to know what she did to me. When I was her age, everything was a fucking game. I wanted what I wanted at that fucking moment, and I didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything beyond my needs.

  I finally pulled my Harley into a spot next to a park just outside of Chesterfield. The place was quiet except for a few people walking their dogs. Jodi slid off the bike and steadied herself. Her cheeks were bright pink from the heat, and I noticed the way her shirt glued itself to her sweaty skin.

  After I climbed off my hog, Jodi studied it. Her gaze admired the curves of the bike while I admired hers.

  “A guy at school talks about how his car purrs. I don’t get why he thinks that’s cool. Your bike roars angry and powerful. All the metal and leather demands to be acknowledged. I used to hate the sound of the Harleys in the trailer park. Now I smile,” she said and then added, “Because the Harleys make me think of you.”

  “What is it that you think I am?”

  Jodi heard the challenge in my voice. Her gaze narrowed, and I prepared for her temper.

  “I’m not blind. I know you’re the bad guy. I know what bad guys do. Knowing and feeling are different. I’d think you know that with you being so old and wise.”

  Exhaling hard, I light a cigarette. “Girls like you romanticize men like me.”

  “Let’s be square here, Kirk. I’m not the girl from the right side of the tracks looking to slum it with a bad boy. I don’t have a big future waiting for me that I’m ditching for the dream of getting into your jeans. Stop playing the victim.”

  I struggled not to smile at her comment. Keeping my stern expression, I needed to make her understand.

  “I’m trying to be a nice guy and keep you from making a mistake.”

  “What mistake? Smiling when I think about you? Or maybe you want to stay out of my fantasies while I touch myself at night. You play the nice guy, but I’m not a fairytale damsel, and you’re certainly no knight.”

  “I saved you from that fucker ready to tear you apart.”

  “I got to take out my frustrations on his face. He wouldn’t be the first man to hit me, and I doubt he’ll be the last. It’s not about whether I get hit in life, but whether I hit back.”

  The thought of anyone harming Jodi lit a raging fire in my belly. “No one should be laying a hand on you.”

  Jodi shrugged at my statement and glanced at the dog walkers nearby. “Do you have any kids?”

  “Not that I know of anyway. Women are sneaky, though.”

  “Is that why you’re protective of me? You never had any kids, and I’m bringing out your fatherly instincts.”

  “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  Jodi’s expression remained unreadable, but I sensed she was bluffing. “You’re the one playing protective dad.”

  “Where is your dad?”

  “In prison.”

  “Sounds about right. Is he in there because of you?”

  Jodi’s mask cracked. “No.”

  “Have you ever met him?”

  “Yeah. Well, there are two guys who might be my dad. They’re brothers and both are in prison. I don’t visit the rapist anymore because he got horny when I visited the first time. Now I just visit the murderer. You know, to gloat.”

  I smiled at her expression. “Gloat about what?”

  “I’m free, and he’s locked away. He won’t be getting out anytime soon either.”

  “Why do you hate him?”

  “He’s a predator.”

  “So am I.”

  “Do you rape women? Are you a serial killer? Technically, my dad could be either of those fuckers. I come from criminal trash, but I’m sure you already guessed that.”

  “I wouldn’t have actually. When I think of you in that trailer park, I see a rose surrounded by weeds and thorns.”

  Jodi blinked as if startled and then she shrugged. “That’s poetic.”

  “I’m not those things, but I’m a killer. I’m also hunting you despite my best efforts to let you go.”

  “Why me?”

  “Why not?”

  Jodi studied me, and I thought she understood. Sometimes stars aligned, the timing was perfect, and the heart just craved what it craved.

  “I won’t be sixteen forever,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s your problem, isn’t it? My age.”

  “Among other things.”

  “What things?”

  “I’m a thorn, baby. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

  “What do you mean by being a thorn?”

  “I crush. I fuck. I don’t care about how pretty it looks or feels. I do things because they need doing. You got rainbows in your head and stars in your eyes. I’m all meat and potatoes. I fuck hard and fast. I don’t hug. I certainly don’t cuddle. I don’t even tell the bitches goodbye when I’m done with them. I’m not anyone’s boyfriend. I’ll never care about a woman’s feelings. The only reason I still exist is because no one’s been tough enough to put me down.”

  Jodi had considered my words for maybe a minute before she asked, “Is that all you want? If it is, then maybe my age isn’t the only issue.”

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  Jodi smiled knowingly, and my skin crawled under her warm gaze. “You might be an old man, but you’re as lost as a kid.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “You’re not wrong.”

  “Why do you think you’re lost?”

  “I was a kid and got into the habit of doing certain shit. Crushing people. Fucking without using my heart. Then I was a man, and I did the same shit. I don’t think I ever really thought about why I am this way. I never thought about anything, but now I think about it too much.”

  “Everything gets boring after awhile.”

  “That it does.”

  Jodi studied me with the gaze of a woman twice her age. She was dissecting me, and it felt hot as hell.

  “You’re a grown enforcer for a club with little kids in charge.”

  “They do act like little kids.”

  “Why follow them when they should be following you?”

  “I don’t know if I want to be in charge.”

  “Why not? What are they doing that you couldn’t?”

  Frowning at her, I asked, “Are you trying to cause trouble for me?”

  “You’re bored, and I’m thinking of ways to change things for you. I figured giving up your life of crime and becoming a grocery checkout boy wasn’t in the cards. Being club presiden
t is more in your wheelhouse.”

  “My club already has a president.”

  “Start a new club.”

  Putting out my cigarette, I sighed. “Life’s really simple when you’re young.”

  “I live in a shithole with an addict mom. I go to a crappy school where I can’t learn anything. I don’t have any skills that’ll make climbing out of my shithole easier. I’m attracted to a bad man going through a midlife crisis. There’s nothing simple about my life.”

  My fingers reached out and took hold of her blonde hair blowing in the evening wind.

  “Where were you heading tonight?” I softly asked.

  “I wanted to find somewhere quiet to read.”

  I slid the hair through my fingers. “It’s a small thing to want.”

  “The world is too loud.”

  Jodi’s voice hurt me deep inside where I rarely felt. When I was her age, I wanted to feel safe. The only way I could find safety was to hurt everyone around me. I crushed everyone until I was the guy no one messed with, and I could finally breathe. Jodi’s goal was so small in comparison. She only wanted to be left alone to read. Such a minor fucking request from someone who could want the world.

  “You can use my apartment,” I said without thinking. “I’ll get you a key. It’s not far from the trailer park, and it’s quiet.”

  “Why?” she asked in a wary voice.

  Jodi got under my skin, but I couldn’t tell her this fact. She’d want to believe I was a romantic guy pining over her pretty face. The stars in her eyes and the rainbows in her head would convince her I was capable of feeling what my heart would never allow. I’d gone cold long ago, and there was no rekindling what I’d willfully destroyed to survive.

  Jodi needed a reason that made sense to her and didn’t give her false hope.

  “Consider it part of my midlife crisis.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You ought to be,” I said immediately.

  “If you hurt me, you hurt me. I’m not going to sit around being scared of you until then.”

  Frowning at the setting sun, I wished she was five years older, and I were a different man.

  “I should probably get you home.”

  “Why?”

  “You shouldn’t be running the streets at night.”

  “I’m not running the streets. I’m standing here with you.”

  “Fine. Then I’m having a hard time not fucking you on my hog right now. I figure I better get you home before I act like an asshole and take what I want.”

  Jodi studied me fearlessly. “You’re full of shit,” she said and then smiled. “I won’t overstay my welcome, though. Give me a ride home if that’s what you need to do.”

  I was accustomed to getting my way. Right then, I wanted to take Jodi out for a meal and get to know her. Then I’d take her back to my apartment and get to know her even better.

  Except she was too young for me to know. Fuck, I doubted she knew herself. So I told myself no. I was going the noble route, but it still hurt like hell when I dropped off Jodi at her shithole trailer park. She stared at me after climbing off, and I thought maybe she wanted me to kiss her goodbye. Or she wanted a promise like most women craved. I had nothing to give her. Not yet anyway so I left without saying another word while she watched me go.

  6 - Jodi

  The day after Kirk took me for a ride, a twitchy kid showed up at my trailer with a key. I studied it all evening, wondering if I should tempt his generosity by hanging out at his place.

  Fuck it, I decided. He offered. He gave me the key. Whatever happened next would happen.

  On the third floor of a four-story building, I discovered a nicer apartment than I expected. Not fancy by any means but a wall of windows allowed in a lot of sunlight to the large living room. I shut the door behind me and locked it out of habit. Walking slowly, I took in the scent of the place. I recognized Kirk’s cologne. Nothing fancy but like the apartment, I found it impressive. Everything about Kirk interested me.

  A folded newspaper rested on the table, and a large TV took up one corner in the room. The couch didn’t look new as much as unused. My wannabe biker boyfriend spent most of his time at the strip club. Resting on the soft leather couch, I thought he was nuts not to spend all of his time in this homey place.

  I stood up and walked to a galley-style kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water. Inside the refrigerator were only a few beers. More proof Kirk rarely spent time at the apartment.

  Before I returned to the living room, I walked into Kirk’s bedroom. I assumed he knew I’d peek so I didn’t feel guilty about poking around his place.

  Much like with his living room and kitchen, the bedroom looked barely used. Did he fuck women at the club? I doubted he brought them here. The place felt unloved, not like a guy’s party pad or home. It was simply the place where he stored his clothes.

  I relaxed in a spot near the windows and opened my book. Inhaling slowly, I enjoyed Kirk’s scent and wished he was with me in the apartment. We could cuddle on the couch and watch sports. No, Kirk probably wasn’t a cuddler. I couldn’t imagine him with a girlfriend at all. He was a man who fucked women. That was it. I wasn’t a woman so he couldn’t fuck me. One day, I’d be sufficiently old enough in his mind, and he’d fuck me. Then what? Would he take back his key? Or would he simply change his locks?

  Until then, I snuggled up on the couch and enjoyed the peaceful afternoon. Without the noise and chaos of the trailer park, I dissolved into my book and imagined living the life of Emma Woodhouse in an era and setting that felt impossibly foreign to me.

  For the first time in so many years, I was truly happy. I hated leaving his apartment. The sun was nearly set when I forced myself to return home.

  For weeks, this was my new routine. I woke up in a shithole, spent my day in a shithole, and then spent a few blissful hours at Kirk’s apartment. I began leaving him messages, telling him about my day. One time, I left an entire essay detailing a girl fight I had with a friend. Kirk normally just wrote “cool” on my messages. For that one, he got sage on my ass.

  “The things you think matter so much now won’t mean shit in five years. In ten years, you won’t remember the names of the people you hate so fucking much today. Remember that when you find yourself giving a shit.”

  His advice was so perfect that I carried around his message with me for months. Whenever life felt too shitty, I read the note in my head using his voice as if he was saying the words to me.

  For so long I didn’t see Kirk except for the small glimpses. I would sneak to the edge of the park some evenings and wait for him to walk outside. Each time, I worried I’d see him with a woman. Would I still want him if I watched him kissing some whore? Probably but I didn’t want to test this theory.

  Those nights when I crouched in the bushes, Kirk stood on the club’s porch and smoked cigarettes. I wondered what he was thinking about and wished it was me. I kept hoping he would surprise me at the apartment and say he couldn’t wait any longer. Kirk never did, and I was beginning to feel foolish for dreaming.

  My birthday came and went with little fanfare. My school friends only cared about their boyfriends and partying. My mom got me a birthday cupcake and insisted I share it with her. Angry by the way she hogged my only birthday attention, I stomped the entire way to Kirk’s apartment. I wanted to feel excited about turning seventeen, but no one seemed to care I was even alive. No one except Kirk.

  In his apartment, I found a dozen yellow roses and a dopey birthday card with a hundred dollars cash inside. I giggled so hard at the card. Not because the design was really so silly, but because I kept imagining such a powerful man picking it out for me.

  “One year older,” was all he wrote inside. He didn’t need to say anything more.

  After the giggles had ended, I cried because the flowers were the nicest thing anyone did for me ever. The cash was an easy gesture, but the flowers and card took time. Kirk put more effort into m
aking me feel special than my flesh and blood. If that didn’t deserve a good cry, I wasn’t sure what did.

  I left the flowers and money at the apartment, but I took the card with me. Kirk gave me hope that my life wasn’t stuck in this one crappy moment. I had a future with more possibilities.

  Too many months passed with only hints of Kirk. More and more, he was a fantasy rather than a real man. When the weather grew colder and peeking at him late at night was too difficult, I didn’t see him at all. Kirk was essentially a memory by the time I returned home one night to find a guy passed out on my bed.

  “What the fuck?” I asked, returning to where Mom was strung out on the couch.

  “Don’t be a greedy bitch,” Mom mumbled. “He wasn’t feeling good.”

  Mom normally slept on the couch since she was up all night. Sometimes she crawled into the full sized bed next to me, but not so much the last few years. I’d gotten accustomed to having the bed to myself. Even if I hadn’t, I wasn’t sharing it with a strange man.

  “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

  “The floor won’t kill you.”

  I looked around at our busted up floor with its chunks of missing carpet. Mouse crap was scattered all over the room. I stared at my mother, waiting for her to show me some pity. Why couldn’t she give me the couch while she slept in the bed with her loser boyfriend? Any normal mother would make the effort.

  When Robin only stared at the TV, I stomped into the bedroom. To reach the closet, I had to climb over the passed out fuckwit. Once I grabbed clean clothes from the closet and shoved them into my backpack, I gave the asshole a swift kick in the balls. He grunted but didn’t wake. In the morning, though, his balls would be swollen and screaming. This part, at least, made me smile.

  The walk to Kirk’s apartment was dicey. Twice, men started following me and asked questions. I walked faster and ignored them. When the second group wouldn’t let up, I pulled out a butcher knife I’d taken from the kitchen.

  “How bad do you want to push this?” I asked the four dirty looking teenagers.