The Douche and Mary were going out of town, so the kids were with me this weekend.
“Sure, honey,” I replied.
“Yay! Thanks.”
Once the table was cleared, the dishes were done, and I figured Elin had enough time by himself, I headed toward his room, trying to figure out what I could say to ease the hurt I’d caused earlier.
My mind was preoccupied; that’s why it took a moment for the scene before me to register when I opened his door.
Elin was sitting at his desk, the computer his dad had gotten him for Christmas powered up, and on the screen was a naked woman. She was spread eagle and moaning, as the man laying next to her gave her the shocker.
I looked from the screen to my son, my horror quickening when I saw his face was rapt on the couple and his hand was wrapped around his penis.
One second, all I could hear was the low moans of the woman on the screen, the next, the room was filled with the screams of my son and me.
“Oh. My. God!”
“Mom! Get out!”
It took a minute to shake myself out of my frozen state, then I whirled and ran out of the room, shutting the door behind me as I fled.
“Oh my god…” I kept muttering it over and over, until I was safely in my room.
For some reason, my room didn’t seem far enough removed from the mind-blowing situation. I passed through my bathroom, into my walk-in closet, shutting the door behind me as I dropped to the floor and crawled behind my hanging clothes. I let my back hit the wall, drew my knees to my chest, and held them tightly with my arms.
Then I cried my eyes out.
When had this happened? When had my sweet little boy started talking about sex and touching himself? When had he started watching porn?
“Ahhhh,” I moaned as I mourned the loss.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d sat there, purging my emotions as I came to terms with the fact that my son would never be my little boy again.
I took a deep breath, stood up, and left the sanctity of my closet, then wondered what the hell my next move was supposed to be.
I moved to where my phone was charging on my dresser and picked it up, scrolling through the names until I found the one I wanted.
Luckily, I’d had the courage to finally ask Cade for his phone number before I left his house after we’d had sex – unprotected sex at that.
Yeah, so that happened. And it was more magical than I’d ever imagined … other than the unprotected part, that had been an oversight on both of our parts. Something I’d been wondering how to bring up the next time I saw him…
“Wilkes.”
His rough voice soothed me, even as it caused my belly to dip.
“Hey, Cade, it’s Lila … Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, darlin’, what’s up?”
“Um, well, at dinner my ten-year-old son showed me how he learned how to do the shocker, then I walked in on him watching a video about it and masturbating.”
I heard his deep chuckle, then he muttered, “Never a dull moment.”
“Cade,” I tried not to screech, but I felt the panic clawing at my throat again. “He’s ten.”
“It’s natural, Lila, nothing to freak out about.”
“Too late … What should I do? Talk to him?”
“His dad’s in the picture, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good, babe, then give him a shout and let him handle it. No kid wants to talk about this stuff, but he really doesn’t want to talk to his mom about it. Just tell him you’re sorry you overacted, that it’s normal, so he doesn’t feel like a freak, and let his pops handle the nitty gritty.”
“Okay, I think I can do that,” I replied, already feeling better about the whole situation. It was a talk best had between a father and son. I’d call The Douche right away. “Thanks, Cade.”
“Anytime, darlin’. I’ve gotta go, but can meet up this weekend.”
“I have the kids this weekend.”
“How about lunch on Friday?”
“Perfect.”
“See ya.”
“Okay, thanks again, Cade.”
I called my ex as soon as I hung up with Cade and told him everything. He surprised me by saying he’d be right over, so I hung up and went to apologize to my son for overreacting, hoping I hadn’t scarred him too terribly.
Scanning the aisles as if I’d never been in this grocery store before, I read the labels as I wandered slowly. Grocery shopping was one of my favorite things. I loved to try new things and get ideas for new dishes to make my kids try. Luckily, they weren’t as picky as most kids their age, and would usually try anything once.
Maybe it was just the act of shopping I liked, no matter what the merchandise was.
I was trying to decide between a coconut curry sauce and butter chicken when I heard a throat clear deliberately next to me.
I turned my head to see who was trying to get my attention and saw a pretty woman who didn’t look familiar.
“Hi,” I said, uncertain what she wanted.
At my greeting she grinned brightly, her whole face lighting up, and said, “Hi! I know you don’t know me, but you’re Delilah Horton, right?” I barely had time to nod before she barreled on. “I’m Carmen Santos and I work for the Greenswood Gazette. I’m the only woman on staff, so, of course they have me working the Lifestyles section … Sexists … Also, I’m the youngest, so I’m in charge of the Patch, the online site for the magazine. My boss thinks the internet will never take the place of the print newspaper, so he doesn’t put much stock into the site. That’s okay, I’m also a blogger on my own time, and don’t mind keeping the paper up to date online.”
Holy crap … I don’t think she took a breath at all, I thought as I stood there holding the jars of sauce, my mouth slightly open.
“Anywho, I’ve been watching you for a while, ever since you posted those pictures of your husband and that gratuitous beaver shot all over town. I really like what you did there, sticking it to the cheaters in the world, and I’d love to interview you for the paper … I’d also love to do an expose of you on my blog.”
Carmen paused and I wondered if this was the part where I was supposed to speak. There was so much information in what she just said, that I wasn’t sure where to start.
She brought her venti coffee cup to her lips and took a long sip, causing me to wonder who the hell had given this woman coffee. She needed the energy like I needed syphilis … Not at all!
“Um,” I started, when I realized that she was breaking for me to respond. “What did you want to interview me about? Leaving my husband?”
“No, silly,” Carmen replied, pulling her long caramel hair back with her free hand, twisting it, and laying it across her shoulder. “I want to do an interview about how you went from housewife to badass vigilante.”
“I’m not a vigilante,” I replied, looking around for hidden cameras. Because either I was being recorded, or this beautiful nut was messing with me.
“A private investigator then,” she amended.
“No, not one of those either,” I replied, then felt frustration rise that yet another person had seen me out taking pictures for Moose. I guess the joke was on me, I wasn’t incognito at all. It was a wonder I managed to get the drop on anyone.
“But,” she began, chewing her bottom lip, her face full of confusion. “Didn’t you catch the bank teller and the pawn shop owner?”
I looked around, felt pretty sure we were alone, and leaned down to say, “It’s not really common knowledge that I did that, and I’d like to keep it that way. But, no, I don’t usually get involved that much. Usually I just take the pictures for my boss. I’m an investigative photographer.”
The confusion cleared and her face brightened again. I took a step back when she started bouncing excitedly on the soles of her feet.
“But don’t you see, you’re a great role model for women. Out there kicking ass and catching bad guys in the act … What a great story
! We could talk about how you went from housewife, to a camera phone beaver shot, to being an investigative photographer. That’s a BIG leap! We could talk about some of the cases you solved, leaving names out of course, and how your life has changed. How you turned one terrible moment in your life to a positive one, by using it to help others.”
Even as her compliments warmed me, and I had to admit, I liked that she thought I was a badass, I was still thinking she was a little off her rocker.
“I don’t know … I kind of like the fact that most of the town is clueless about what I do. I don’t know if posting an expose about it would be a good idea.”
“Will you think about it?” Carmen asked, lifting her giant duffel bag of a purse and searching through it. After a few seconds she said, “Score,” then pulled a business card out and handed it to me. “Just give me a call, text, or email when you’re ready, and we can set something up.”
I put the coconut curry sauce back on the shelf, put the butter chicken sauce in my basket, then accepted her business card.
“Butter chicken is the bomb,” she said, indicating my cart, then added, “It was great to meet you,” before twirling and practically skipping down the aisle.
I was exhausted just watching her.
“You too, Carmen,” I called after her, then put her card in my back pocket and continued down the aisle.
“Do you mind if I take Elena tonight, let her and Cassidy have a slumber party?”
I looked up from licking the buttercream frosting off the cupcake in front of me and said, “Yeah, of course, Elena would love that.”
I was on my way to meet Cade for lunch, but had stopped for a little pick-me-up.
What? Yes, I was eating a cupcake before I met Cade for lunch, but it was the first time I’d be seeing him since the night we slept together, so I needed it.
When my cell phone rang, and I saw that Moose was calling, I told Amy May I’d be right back and walked out of the bakery to take the call.
“What’s up?”
“I need you to get this shit done … Today!”
I held the phone away from my ear, looking at it with horror and confusion at Moose’s tone.
He was losing it.
“All right, Moose, shit, calm down.”
“Calm down? I’ll fucking calm down when you do the job I hired you to do,” he screeched over the phone, and I worried for a moment that he was going to give himself a heart attack, raising his blood pressure that way.
“Okay.”
“She’s at the nail salon in twenty minutes. I want you on her like flies on shit. She moves, you move. She meets with anyone, I want it on film. She gives Hector a blow job, I want to see the fucking cum on her lips.”
Ewww…
“You got me, Delilah? We need to shut this one down.”
“Yeah, I got you, Moose, don’t worry.”
“We need this, Lila,” he said strangely, and I wondered if he was talking about the money, or something else.
As soon as I hung up with him, I called the mom of one of Elin’s friends and set up a sleepover for him too. It sucked that I’d have both kids gone when it was my weekend to have them, but I needed to get this job done and over with, so I could get Moose off my back and let the Coke Club become a less-than-fond memory.
My phone pinged, signaling a text, and I looked down to see Cade had messaged me.
Something came up. Rain check.
Even though I knew it was for the best, since I needed to get to work, I still felt a pang of sadness that I wouldn’t be seeing Cade today. Then I realized that both my kids would be gone tonight and replied.
No problem. I have to work. But maybe later tonight? My kids have plans.
I walked back in to the bakery, told Amy May goodbye, and grabbed the rest of my cupcake to eat on the way.
Maybe. Contact me when you’re free and I’ll let you know.
Vague, but it was something.
I tried to remember what state we’d left the apartment in, when the last time I’d shaved was, and whether or not I had any beer in the house, as I made my way to the salon.
Keeping my eyes peeled for Hector, I drove around the back of the salon. I didn’t see the Camaro, so I kept driving and parked down the alley. I got out of the van and was just about to turn from the alley into the back parking lot when a voice filtered toward me, causing me to pause behind the dumpster.
“Yeah, babe, I got a line on a couple new sellers … Yeah, I’m gonna head out there now, get a feel for the place, and for them. You got it, baby, you know me, I’ll make it work.”
I rose slightly to peer over the top of the dumpster, my adrenaline spiking when I saw it was my perp on the phone. It looked like I was finally going to catch a break.
She slid behind the wheel of a pretty little Beemer, and as soon as she shut the door, I took off toward my van.
I caught her turning onto Main Street, keeping a few car lengths behind as I tailed her out of town. I doubted she had any reason to suspect she was being followed, but although she seemed like an idiot to me, I didn’t want to make assumptions and screw this up. So I was hanging back.
We were about twenty miles out of town when I began to wonder where the hell we were heading, thirty when I wondered if this even had to do with the drugs, and forty when I thought about just turning around and heading back.
Then she turned right.
When I got to the road she turned on, I saw a sign that read, Custom Motorcycles and Service. Seeing her taillights just before they went out of view, I turned to follow.
She was parking in a lot and exiting her car, so I backed up behind the tree line, hoping it was enough to cover the car long enough for me to get a closer look. My only hope was that no one else came down the empty road anytime soon, although if they did, I’d pretend to be lost.
I stayed along the trees, watching through the branches as the perp walked through the lot, gravel crunching under her high-heeled boots, and I fleetingly thought she looked like a fish out of water walking up to the motorcycle shop.
Then I stopped thinking at all, as I watched Cade come out of the double steel doors and head straight for the buxom blonde, his hands circling her tiny waist as she looked up at him.
On autopilot, I took pictures as I walked through the trees, rounding the bend and getting closer to the couple in front of me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.
A bear could literally stop next to me to shit in the woods, and I still wouldn’t be able to peel my eyes away from the sight of Cade’s dark head leaning down to the cokehead’s fair one.
Pain clawed at my insides, yet still I moved on, shutter clicking away as I documented the worst moment of my life.
Now, that may seem a tad dramatic. I had, after all, caught my husband eating out a skank in his car; however, in this moment, I would swear to anyone who asked that I’d never felt this betrayed. This hurt.
Until the next moment, when the sound of Cade’s voice reached my ears.
“C’mon, darlin’, let’s go inside.”
Like a kick to the gut, I felt that darlin’ like a steel-toed boot.
Inadvertently I gasped, then slid deeper in the woods when Cade’s head came up and scanned the trees.
“Fuck,” I whispered, peeking through the branches and letting out a deep breath when I saw him guiding her toward the building, his hand on her lower back.
“That son of a bitch,” I seethed as I headed back to my car. I knew I wouldn’t get any closer to what I assumed was the MC compound than I already had. And even if I could, I wasn’t sure my heart could withstand the sight of what Cade and that bleached-blonde bitch were bound to be doing once they got inside.
I’d just opened my car door when it slammed shut.
My heart pounding in terror, I turned to see Cade standing above me. Forgetting what I’d just seen, I was about to sigh in relief that it was him and not some other scary biker, when he growled, “What the fuc
k are you doing here?”
That put my back up.
“What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are you doing, you dirty lying prick?” I asked, putting my hands to his chest and shoving with all my might.
He didn’t move an inch.
“Calm down, get in your car, and get the fuck out of here. I’ll be by later,” he said, his face inches from mine.
“Oh, hell no,” I seethed, literally seeing red for the first time in my life.
I’d always wondered what that expression meant. Now I knew.
“Hell, yes, Lila, get out of here. You’ll fuck everything up if anyone sees you,” he said, his face softening as he lifted his hand to touch me.
I flinched and he dropped his hand.
“Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because you can trust me.”
“Bullshit,” I replied softly, my rage quickly turning to devastation. I had to get out of there before I embarrassed myself by blubbering all over his chest. “I’m going, but I’m leaving because I don’t want to be anywhere near you, not because you told me to.”
“Whatever gets you out of here,” he replied, pissing me off again. “I’ll be by later.”
“Don’t be … I won’t let you in.”
Cade didn’t reply, he just waited until I got in my car and started down the lane, then he turned and headed back toward the compound. I only knew that, because I couldn’t stop myself from watching him in the rearview mirror.
“Stupid, stupid men,” I muttered as I drove back to town. Then I screamed a bunch of much nastier things in Cade’s honor, with the windows rolled down and the music blaring through my speakers. “Fucking, mother-fucking, dick-sucking, lying, asshole…”
You get the idea.
I did not go home, I did not pass go, I drove straight to Amy May’s and walked into the back door of the bakery.
“Uh-oh,” Amy May said when she looked up and saw my tear-ravaged, rage-filled face.