The Drowning Child

54

Ren sat across the table from Joe. She was dressed in a white hotel robe, he was in his boxers. They had ordered room service. She looked at him when he wasn’t looking, buttering toast, pouring coffee for both of them.

Couple-y.

He looked up at her and smiled.

No one is going to get my heart again. Or whatever amount of it is left. One used heart, broken in places, black in others.

The heart that was moved when he looked at you...

Shut it.

‘I’ve always felt weird eating breakfast with no underwear on,’ said Ren. ‘Is that normal?’ She paused. ‘Or with someone topless.’

Joe got up, grabbed his T-shirt from the floor, put it on, sat back down, and smiled. ‘I don’t want to turn you off your pancakes.’

‘It would take more than that. I didn’t mean for you to actually go put your T-shirt on.’

‘And I hope you didn’t mean yourself to go put underwear on.’

She laughed. Oh, God. I hate doing it again in the morning after breakfast when it’s a one-night stand.

One-night stand?

Stop.

He poured her more coffee, gave her another big smile, stayed looking at her a little longer.

No, no, no. No.

She focused on eating her pancakes.

Why is it that I feel like Paul Louderback took advantage of me and Joe Lucchesi didn’t?

Because I wanted Joe more. Because of the chemistry. Because...

No one took advantage of you.

‘What’s going through that pretty head?’ said Joe.

‘A tiny tumbleweed.’ That’s what Everett and I used to say.

‘Hmm,’ said Joe. ‘Is it last night? Are you having regrets?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. It’s just—’ She looked away.

Do not tell him.

‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘You know you can say anything to me... I hope.’

She looked at him.

You are a sweet, sweet, tough guy sexy fucking fuck. ‘I think that... I think I’m to blame for all the... everything. I think I should have ID’d – and located – Duke Rawlins sooner. I think I shouldn’t have gone to the Ostler Building alone, that I should have been at the meeting I was ordered to be at – on time. I think that...’ I didn’t love Ben enough for the universe to have allowed him to live. ‘I think that I didn’t do my job as an agent, a friend, a girlfriend. I think that I should have followed my gut that there was something wrong with Janine when I arrived at Safe Streets. I think—’

Everyone I touch turns to dead.

Don’t let me touch you.

‘Whoa,’ said Joe, ‘There are too many things to respond to there. You’re to blame for “all the everything”? No. You need to remember that Duke Rawlins was a psychopath. In my opinion, he would never go out on anything other than... how he went out. He is the only person to blame. You have to know that. And to take your last point – you should have sensed there was something wrong with Janine? And done what – left the building? Called for backup? She wouldn’t have allowed you to – you would have jeopardized everyone if you did. She would definitely have been killed, and Gary would have too. I believe that you saved me with your actions, that’s for sure. You saved me twice over: by having Rawlins break through that guardrail, and by stopping me from strangling him to finish him off. I could be dead or locked up, if not for you.’

I never thought of that. Is it even true, though?

‘You couldn’t have known Rawlins’ plans,’ said Joe. ‘He was insane.’

‘Parts of him were predictable.’

‘Not enough parts.’

She checked the time on her phone. ‘You better hurry. You have to be at Safe Streets in forty-five minutes.’

‘I know,’ said Joe. He moved his chair back. ‘What do you think I could use some of that time for?’

‘No, no, no – I haven’t finished my pancakes.’

He stood up, took her hand, pulled her up, opened her robe, slid it off. ‘From behind, real quick,’ he said. ‘You can be back to your pancakes while they’re still hot.’

‘You’re a considerate man,’ said Ren. Serious brownie points for thinking of the pancakes.

He looked like he was about to speak, but he was too focused on keeping his promise. She watched him in the mirror.

Fuck me, you are sexy.

She lay in his arms afterward, turned away.

Always, turned away.

What are we doing?

And are we doing the same thing?

Joe took her gently by the shoulder and pulled her back to face him.

She looked into his eyes: brown, beautiful, troubled eyes.

Something shifted in her chest.

The twist of a thick wooden stake.

This is how vampires feel when it’s all over.

She looked away.

It’s all over.

She got up, put on her robe and went back to the table to pour more coffee. She could sense Joe watching her. She turned around.

He is unreadable.

‘That was amazing,’ he said.

‘It was.’ It really fucking was.

She thought of never seeing him again. Her heart did not like it.

‘You really need to leave,’ said Ren. ‘You’ll be late.’

‘All right, all right,’ said Joe. ‘I get the message.’ He rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up.

He has no clue how gorgeous he is.

‘What do you mean, you get the message?’ said Ren. ‘The message was pretty straightforward: you will be late. Not a huge amount of interpretation required.’

He made a face. He looked a little wounded.

‘I have tone-of-voice issues,’ said Ren. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s not that,’ said Joe. ‘It’s just I’m not sure the “you’ll be late” was the main message in that sentence.’

Fuck. ‘Technically, there were two sentences.’ She smiled.

Joe went toward the bathroom, but paused in the doorway. He looked at her.

Do not ask me to come in the shower with you.

He didn’t say anything. He just looked sad.

Ren climbed back into bed, stared at the ceiling.

I hate this.

She listened to him in the shower, pictured him in there, imagined him coming out afterwards, clean and cool, and fucking her again. He reappeared ten minutes later, with a towel around his waist, and his head down. He glanced up briefly and gave her a smile that flickered with something else.

What was that?

He got dressed and packed without saying anything.

I have no idea what’s going on here.

Oh my God... I can’t read emotional cues. Oh my God: I’m on the spectrum.

When Joe was finished, he came over and sat on the bed beside her. He brushed her hair off her face, held his hand there.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘What’s up? What just happened?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Are you sure?’

She nodded. He waited.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Well, can I kiss you goodbye?’

Ren laughed. ‘Of course you can.’ She sat up. He kissed her.

He is incredible.

Don’t cry.

‘So,’ he said, ‘can I see you later – after your interview?’

‘I’d love to, but I can’t.’

I just remembered I have to call someone after then...

‘OK...’ said Joe. ‘Well, maybe...’ he studied her face ‘… another time?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. Good luck later.’

‘You too.’

She watched him walk to the door. He looked back. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye. Thanks.’

She rolled over in the bed, and buried her head into the pillow.

Ugh. Bye.

It was only sex.

Spectacular sex.

More than sex.

Stop.

She came again, thinking about what he’d done that morning, how amazing it was, and what he’d done the previous night, and how amazing that was, and what she wanted him to do the next time and how amazing that would be.

Next time?!

You’re nuts.

She took a shower, then went for her purse, pulled open the inside zip.

Noo! No backup underwear!

Going commando to face two inspectors. Professional.

Just not that kind of professional.

She went out on to the street and called Janine. She got her voicemail.

‘Janine, I’m just going to lay it all out there,’ said Ren. ‘I slept with Joe Lucchesi, very drunk, and very sober, and it was incredible, and I feel like the biggest piece of shit in humanity. Call me.’

A text came back within five minutes:

Ren replied: