Chapter 14
"You're late again," Derrick accused.
"I'm always late on Fridays," Perk calmly replied. "You know that. I don't get off until seven, and then my classes run until ten thirty."
Dark eyes suspicious, he glowered at her. His long nose twitched, a sure sign that he was trying to smell out a lie. Perk felt exasperated. Derrick was a suspicious man. He had been burned too often by too many inconstant lovers to fully trust another woman. Because of this, he was a man who needed constant reassurance of his place in a woman's life. Most of all, he needed to know that his needs, his will, his desires came before anything else in the life of his lover.
In other words, he was an ass.
"I don't like it," he insisted. "I don't like you being out this late. Anything could happen to you."
"Derrick--dear," she said in her most exasperatingly reasonable voice, "would you please tell me what is likely to happen that I am not perfectly capable of handling?"
With a quick twitch of his head, he spun abruptly on his heels to walk into the kitchen. Typical response. Derrick always retreated when he could not come up with a snidely superior remark. His refuge of choice was silence and glowers and meaningful stares that had no meaning. For the most part his childishness beat the alternative. Derrick was not a small man. He was large and often violent. Less than six months ago Perk had run across one of his old girlfriends, and the two of them sat down and had a long girl talk. The ex-girlfriend told Perk a tale of midnight beatings and constant infidelity. Yes, she admitted, Derrick had not been the only cheater, but to be fair her cheating had begun only after Derrick had proven himself to be inconstant. Unfortunately for her health, the order of events had not mattered to him. Being with an unfaithful partner was more than he could stand so he beat the woman, called her a whore, and then did his best to turn her into one.
That, at least, was a trick he would never try with Perk. Derrick might be a big and dangerous man, but Perk had no fear of him. She was far more dangerous than he could ever be. He was anger and spite and jealousy and depression, and he owned an overwhelming ego that insisted he was the best damn human being on the planet. He was muscle and speed and pure hell with edged weapons.
Perk was discipline and training. Neither of them doubted that if it came to a fight, she would win.
Pushing her way through the kitchen door, she found Derrick standing at the stove. Hamburger, beaten until it was nothing but thin grains of meat, sizzled in a pan. Barbecue sauce, spices and yellow cheese rested on the counter. Beside the cheese were bowls containing vegetables and rice and a drained can of fish. Looking at it all, Perk was extremely happy she had grabbed a bite before coming home.
"I want you to quit." Derrick gave the meat a quick stir before he tossed onion into the pan. "I think you really need to quit."
Perk snorted. "And how do you think we will pay the mortgage then, Mister This Job is Beneath Me. Driving a taxi might not be the best job in the world but it's the only one we have between the two of us."
Allspice, garlic, meat seasoning, cloves, cinnamon, and ginger went into the pan. Perk wanted to gag when the smell hit her.
With a quick flicker of his hand Derrick tossed the food and spices together, breathed in appreciatively, and frowned at her. "I don't want you to stop driving. I think you should stop all this training. Gives you more time to drive the cab and more time to pick up fares. Think of it, Perk. You will bring in extra money and spend less. Things won't be so tight for us then."
"They would not be so tight," Perk said emphatically, "if you actually held down one of your jobs for longer than a few days. Things would not be so tight if you did not pollute your body three times a week with your buddies at the strip clubs."
"This isn't about me."
"Oh, no? I suppose it isn't about you having to borrow money last week so you could treat the girls at the Treasure Chest to drinks they could have bought for half the price."
Dropping the spatula onto the counter, Derrick turned and glared. "I knew you were going to throw that at me."
"I ain't throwing nothing at you but the truth," Perk snapped back. "I could care less about your drinking and your whoring, but I do care about you spending my money on your women, and I care about your jealousy rearing up its ugly head every time you get a snoot full of hooch. I won't have it, Derrick. This isn't going to happen if you plan on staying here."
Giving her his patented glower, he turned back to the stove and emptied the can of fish into the pan. The barbecue sauce followed.
"This isn't over," he said. "Not by a long shot it isn't. We both know that more is going on between you two than just lessons."
Perk refused to answer him. Eyes watering, she escaped from the rank smell of the kitchen and made her way to the bathroom, leaving him to his suspicions and his spite. Once in the bathroom she stripped down and turned on the bath water, taking care not to get under the shower head. Warm water spat out of the faucet and cold water sprinkled out of the shower head until it, too, became warm. The gaskets in the shower knob needed changing again, something she had pointed out to him only six times in the last six months. Damn the man anyway. He was little more than a drone, a parasite living off her wages and complaining the entire time. He was a slug, a beast. He was…
Well--he was a damn good lover was what he was. Derrick did have that going for him. Occasionally, he could be thoughtful, and sometimes he even brought her flowers.
She was starting to wonder if that was enough. Somehow, it did not quite seem to be a winning formula for a lifetime partner.
Well la dee da. Who did she think she was lying to? No way was Derrick marriage material. Chances were, he would not be around in another year. The only real question was which of them would get tired of the other first. That was the only mystery in all her love affairs. In a few weeks or months she and Derrick would have one last fight; then he would be gone, and she would be alone again. Within a few weeks she would have yet one more lover to add to her growing list, one more live-in parasite who would use her for a week or a month or a year.
God, she was pathetic. She really needed to get a life. She needed to get involved with something different. Maybe there was someplace out there where she could find a few men who weren't all jerks.
Nah. Dreams like that were nothing but pure fantasy. They were just dirty smoke dispersing into filthy air.