The Arrangement Anthology 1(204)

How do you pull someone out of hell anyway? Is it even possible? Growing up, I’d heard to never reach out. If a person slips off a ledge, the only way to help them is to throw down a rope or something. If you reach out, they pull you down with them. I’m terrified that I’m reaching out, that there’s no rope, and it’ll destroy us both. Maybe Sean knows that. Maybe that’s why he left.

But he wants you. He sexted with you. Sean wouldn’t have done that if we were making a clean break, would he?

I feel the wedding band I picked out for him in the pocket of my jeans. I guess it’s more of an engagement ring than a wedding band. I wanted something different, and I found it. The ring is white gold with a Celtic pattern carved into the band. A single blood red stone is woven into the pattern and sits on the top of the ring. It’s exactly what I wanted, Old World looking, but still a band—a circle—the symbol that means eternity.

Mel tries to put Steve back into an erect position, and comments on it. “Dude has issues getting a boner, doesn’t he?”

I laugh. “Yeah, you gotta rub him just right or he doesn’t stay up.”

“We’re both going straight to Hell. You know that, right? Damn, we’re sick. Sick, I tell you!” She’s laughing, trying to get the seatback to stay up, but Steve isn’t feeling it. “Well, now what?”

“Rub him harder?”

Mel bursts out laughing. “You’re so fucked up. You know that right? I think you had this mentality for messed up shit before I brought you to Black. As much as I regret that, it’s nice to see you acting out on your… uh, whatever the hell is wrong with you.”

“Oh, shut up. There’s duct tape in the glove box. Tape him up.”

Mel gives me a weird look and then does it. She runs a piece of tape behind her chair, after pulling it up and ties it around mine and her door. She leans back gingerly, expecting to topple over, but it holds. “Viagra for the challenged chair.” She holds up the duct tape and nods, before stuffing it back in the glove box. “So, how do we find him?”

“Peter said Sean’s been around. I guess we go into stalker mode and play ‘spot the biker’ until we find Sean.”

“You don’t have an address?”

“It’s not like it’s the City,” by which I mean Manhattan. “Besides, if that doesn’t work, we can try hotels. There are only a few here and I doubt they’re all having biker conventions this weekend.”

“Fine, but you gotta buy me some pancakes when we’re done here. I feel the need to spread the urban legend of the IHOP blow job into the TriState Area.” She smirks at me and nods, while tucking her hands behind her head like she’s too awesome for words. The movement makes the tape slip and her seat falls back.

I nearly crash the car because I’m laughing so hard. Tears sting my eyes by the time we take the exit, and it’s strange to be laughing so hard when I’m about to do something that scares me to death. My emotions never respond the right way at the right time, but I’ll take any laughter when and where I can get it. Life’s been too damn hard lately and a fit of giggles is good for the soul.





CHAPTER 8





We pull off the road and fix Mel’s seat so that she isn’t duct taped to the door anymore. When Steve fell over, all the tape went down too. Some of it sprung back and stuck to her hair. Talk about words I thought I’d never hear. Mel gave me an earful and threatened to castrate the seat (although I’m not sure if that’s possible).

“Avery, this isn’t going to work.” Mel groans. Half a second later, she cocks her head like a terrier. “Well, I’ll be damned. There it is.” Mel holds up a finger and points at the shiny bike Sean bought with me on Long Island. It’s parked out back at a hotel, right next to the back door.

I hesitate. “Should I go in and look for him?”

“They probably won’t give you his room number, but I could get it for you. What do you want to do?”

“Follow him around and see what he’s doing. How creepy does that sound?” I glance over at her, knowing it’s past creepy, but I’m curious about what was so urgent that he had to run off.

Mel shrugs. “Fine by me, but I need some food. There’s a Wag-a-Bag back there. Let’s grab something and stalk him the right way.”

We load up on carbs and soda and sit across the street. My car isn’t really noticeable in a parking lot, but if Sean spots it, he’ll know it’s me. I mean, how many old Capris are still running around?

I park the car at the convenience store, facing the street, so we can see his bike and sit back to wait. Mel opens a bag of Bugles and puts the cone-shaped chips on her fingertips. “I’ll get you and your little dog too, my pretty little call girl.” Her voice is a perfect witch’s imitation.