Page 16 of Fire in the Hole


  “Sorry about that.” He addressed the throbbing salami she hadn’t mentioned. She sat up and settled next to him.

  “Pregnant? Like knocked-up? I can’t tell if I’m more angry because this is now part of our relationship or because he told me in a text message. I think the text message thing. I mean, seriously. We’ve been all through this already. And I want to know how far along she is. If it’s like fifteen minutes, I need to know that.” Dove stood and paced.

  “I’m sorry, Pants-crapper.” He frowned in her direction. He could have said, “I told you so,” or even started digging into Johnson’s other character flaws, but he didn’t.

  Dove waited for her phone to ring. It never came. Duke eventually got up and made them both a turkey sandwich with cheddar cheese. She ate it despite the fact that she wasn’t hungry.

  She looked across her table at Duke, who stayed with her in her misery. He was dressed up like a different person and looked hot, honestly. He was just a nice guy, despite all his disgustingness.

  But her heart felt like a soggy piece of moss; she couldn’t believe Johnson had made her feel this way. He was good-looking and out of her league, that once she was dating him, all her problems should have faded away. Her happily ever after should have taken her knees out, but instead, his carelessness had taken the wind out of her sails again.

  There was a part of her that believed no matter what he wanted to dole out, she should take it because he was ridiculously handsome. But an even smaller part was allowing her to be angry, not just depressed.

  Duke stood and cleared their plates before going to the door, grabbing his leather jacket on the way.

  “Thanks for staying. I appreciate the sandwich. I know I’m no fun.”

  Duke stalked back to her, and in his crazy getup, he was intimidating. “Listen, I think he’s an asshole, but don’t write him off just yet. Let me go do something.”

  He stared at her lips for so long that her other set started to get a little moist.

  “Um. Okay.”

  “Just don’t do anything until you hear from me. Okay?” And then he touched her cheek gently with his knuckles before leaving.

  Dove followed him to the door and watched as he left without the helmet he’d placed on her chair. He never turned around to look at her, on a mission somehow. She guessed the motorcycle talk was part of a prop for his new costume, not how he was traveling.

  Debra Anastasia and her husband flounced down the stairs just then. Dove tried to close the door before they saw her, but she was too late.

  The porn writer called out, “He looks pretty incredible, right?”

  Dove widened her eyes and pursed her lips. She’d have to talk to these two wackos. “Yup. I bet he’ll win every award for his costume at the party he’s going to.” She tried to close her door but Debra Anastasia stuck the toe of her high heel in the crack of the door, not letting Dove seal the woman out of her apartment.

  “He’s not going to a party. He dressed that way for you. To impress you. But I bet it was lost on you? Wasn’t it?” The normally flirty woman was angry.

  “Um. What?” Dove squinted her eyes.

  “I swear if you were a character in one of my novels, you would meet a very untimely end. You dumbass.” Debra Anastasia’s nostrils flared.

  Mr. Anastasia put a calming hand on Debra Anastasia’s shoulder. “Easy, baby.”

  “No. I won’t be easy. Well, I will be easy for you later, but not for this chick.” Debra Anastasia pointed at her with a long, blood-red fingernail. “Duke is so blind when it comes to you. He’d wait outside this door for you to finish banging the pharmacist just to get a peek at the smile you gave that other guy as he left. You are clueless.” She pulled her foot out of the door and gave Dove the middle finger. “And you don’t deserve him. Even if he is your stepbrother.” Debra Anastasia spun on her heel and grabbed her husband’s hand. “We can’t go out right now. I’m very angry. We have to screw.” Mr. Anastasia used all his teeth to smile after his bride as they marched upstairs.

  Dove stood there for a solid minute in the hallway, trying to decide if she was insulted, scared, or pissed. When she could find none of those feelings inside, she wondered if the woman was right. Thinking about Duke as her stepbrother made the guyliner even more appealing.

  She was never in a position of power where fate was concerned. And to be here, breaking up with Johnson, it seemed, with a fairly great guy who was supposed to be over her wearing guyliner for her pussy? Well, it was all very confusing.

  Her intercom sounded, and when she answered it, she expected Duke to have told her he needed the keys to her car or something. But instead, Johnson’s loud voice announced his presence.

  “Hey, Dove. Can I come up?”

  Dove couldn’t say no to him. Not even now, when she was hurt and angry. She buzzed him in and went back to her open door. He was disheveled when he arrived at her apartment.

  “I’m sorry I told you in the text; I was talking to Beth on the phone in my van. I just needed you to know about the… development… as soon as I knew. I’m just flabbergasted.” He held onto the same doorframe Duke had been using earlier.

  “Come in. Tell me everything.” She wrapped her arm around Johnson’s waist, and he leaned into her.

  “My parents are going to kill me. I’m going to have to marry her.” Johnson sat down on her couch as his words opened a huge wound in her chest.

  Duke used his phone and Dove’s car to locate Beth. Her Instagram account gave away her current location at, of all damn places, the Olive Garden. He was technically banned after the peeing in the ladies’ room sink incident from the last time he was protecting Dove. He walked into the OG with a waddle-shuffle that he hoped replicated a pimp swagger instead of a full adult diaper gait.

  Beth and her girlfriends were at a large, circular table. “And I told him two carats or walk the walk.” Her voice was loud.

  Duke passed the maître d’, who fanned herself as he walked by. For kicks, he murmured to her, “I’m your stepbrother.”

  Her eyes nearly rolled back into her head, and he could hear her ovaries running toward him. Maybe Debra Anastasia was on to something.

  Duke dragged an empty chair from a nearby table behind him, plopped it next to Beth, and straddled it, crossing his heavily fake-tattooed forearms on the back.

  “Ladies,” he interrupted. “You’ve all seen my dick, so you know I can back all of this bullshit up.” He waved at his getup and then pointed to his eyes. “I’m your stepbrother.” The circle of woman swooned a bit in their chairs. He gave them all a smirk. “I know where you felt that.” He added a wink. “Now, I’m not sure all you ladies have this information, but I said I recognized Beth from somewhere. I’m ready to share that delectable memory.”

  Beth paled. She stood up from the table and excused herself. The other girls around the table pressed him for more information, but Beth grabbed his forearm and dragged him to his feet, hissing, “Come with me.”

  He waved at the women and allowed Beth to lead him out of the restaurant and into the parking lot.

  “Don’t you dare. That is over and done with.” Beth was fuming.

  “I’m just asking a question. That’s all I’m asking.” Duke pulled his arm out from her grasp and folded his arms across his chest.

  “No. You don’t get to ask questions.” She pointed at him.

  Duke pulled out his phone and scrolled through the pictures. Then he showed her the one he was looking for. “You know, the nose job really does change how you look. It took me a few minutes, for sure. And your teeth came out nice; I’m not gonna lie.” He showed her the picture again. Now he knew how to use it best.

  Beth lunged for the electronic. “Give that here.”

  “Nope.” Duke scratched his chin.

  “What do you want?” Her eyes were wild.

  “The truth. Just real quick, the truth. If you tell me that and come clean about everything, I’ll happily delete this. Gone fo
rever.” Duke put the phone in his back pocket.

  “This is blackmail.” Beth looked close to tears.

  Duke shook his head. “Listen, I’m not into making pregnant girls cry. But I did find it interesting that you were drinking red wine in there.” Beth looked away and Duke could see her mind working. He added, “They don’t know you’ve told Johnson you’re pregnant, do they?” He stepped closer. “Because it’s pretty hard to lie to your girlfriends, isn’t it? All your periods are synched up and that kind of bullshit. But the ex-boyfriend—he’s easier.” Her chin dimpled with the emotion she was holding in.

  “Your window of believability was closing. You had to do the math since the last time you had sex with the pharmacist. So now was a good time. He was happy with Dove. She somehow could make him smile and commit. You needed something drastic. How right am I?” Duke clicked his tongue because he didn’t need her words; her body language told him he was right on the money.

  “Shut up.” Beth angrily wiped away her tears. “You’re an asshole.”

  “So, when are you going to tell him you’re lying?” Duke pointed at her.

  “Well it looks like I have to, or you’ll let that picture be seen.” She was indignant.

  He pulled out his phone and deleted it, showing her the process. “It’s never seen the internet and it won’t. I’m not a smarmy guy. You’re going to tell Johnson now because you know tricking him into thinking you’re pregnant is not the way to make a relationship last. And if you have to hoodwink him into being with you, you deserve better. What the actual fuck, Beth? You’re so desperate to have a guy that even if he’s miserable, it’s better than nothing?” Duke tossed up his hands. “I guess I shouldn’t expect much from the kind of person that would torture Dove all this time.”

  She bit the inside of her cheeks, making her lips puff out before defending herself. “Every girl I know is sporting a rock. I just don’t want to be left behind.”

  “Girl, buy yourself your own fucking real ring. You don’t need a man to make you who you are. Getting married isn’t like having the latest purse.” Duke walked back to the door and held it open for her. She sniffed a bit before heading back in.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked as she passed him.

  “Well, I doubt you ladies are going to finish all the food you’ve ordered. It’s not like you’re eating for two either. Call me “doggie bag.” Then you and I—and however many of your friends you need for moral support—are going to find Johnson and put him out of his misery.” Duke waddled/pimp-walked behind her.

  “You don’t want to do it right now?” Beth led the way back to the table.

  “No. It’s okay if he sweats for a few minutes. I hate that bastard.” Duke straddled his chair, and all the ladies at the table swooned again.

  Shannon could not believe how delicious the meal had been. She dotted at her lips with the linen napkin. This invasion was going great so freaking far.

  Preston smiled at her. “You look beautiful here. I can’t believe you believe in me.”

  She leaned across the table and held his hand. “We’re soul mates. Get used to it.”

  Preston looked horny all at once. “Oui, my little croissant. I plan on it. Shall we?”

  He stood and pulled out Shannon’s chair, inviting her with a grand hand gesture to the door.

  “Don’t we have to pay?” She nodded toward the hostess.

  “Kings don’t pay. We have enough to worry about.”

  It was the first time she disagreed with Preston. She’d been a waitress when she was a teenager, and the restaurant business was super hard. She riffled through her purse, found a hundred dollar bill, and passed it to the cast member on the way out. It would cover dinner and include an excessive tip, but it was worth it to let Preston think what he had done had been allowed because of his royal status.

  When they hit the street, Preston whirled like a princess. “It feels amazing being here. Now to conquer.”

  Shannon and Preston made their way farther on the little fake road and visited each of the delightful shops. Everything smelled lovely, and they stopped to take some selfies with the stick she had for just that purpose.

  “Now is my moment. Are you ready?” He stood tall and thrust his hips forward to show his dominance.

  “Yes, my love.” Shannon switched her phone camera from photo to video to catch it all.

  “I am King Preston Yeticrotch, supreme ruler and conqueror of this land.”

  He put his hands on his hips like a superhero.

  “Hear, hear!” Shannon hollered.

  It was fairly anticlimactic; Preston reviewed the video and approved. A French cast member appeared and offered to take their picture, so they posed for her. Preston told her he was her king now, and the cast member looked a little confused but nodded adding, “That’s great.”

  “I did not expect for it to be easy. So, my queen, where do you want to make our home?”

  Shannon could think of a few choice places in The Magic Kingdom to live—say the castle—but here in Epcot France, the options were a bit less cliché for a king and queen.

  “Well, let’s check out the bathrooms.”

  After they had a look around and ascertained that there were no showers to be had, Shannon started wondering out loud how close the hotels were to their kingdom. In France, there was a fancy booth that had a friendly lady offering timeshares in the hotels.

  Preston addressed her. “I have the money my kingdom needs. Can I be addressed as King Preston, and my bride, Queen Shannon?”

  The cast member smiled. “Sure thing, King Preston. Here’s the paperwork for review and a coupon for breakfast tomorrow at that restaurant.”

  She pointed with two fingers at the French restaurant whose meal they were still processing in their guts.

  Shannon shrugged. “Sounds good to me. We can split our time between here and Southern or Bust?”

  Preston nodded regally. “We will reign, my queen. Tonight and every night after.”

  Shannon took the paperwork and shook the cast member’s hand. They were off to see if there was any vacancy in the hotel that was attached to Epcot. She had expected to spend some time in jail tonight, so a jetted tub was a great upgrade.

  Johnson held his head in his hands. “I mean, all my life, my mother drilled it into me to be a gentleman. What else can I do? I have to marry her. My life is over.”

  Dove rubbed his back gently. She hated Beth. She wanted to tell him that as old-fashioned as his parents were, there was no reason to rush into a marriage that wasn’t a dream come true.

  She had doubts, though. Maybe he was tearing his hair out now, but he could picture a future with Beth down the line. And Dove didn’t see a place for herself in his life from the way he described his role as a husband and father. It was commendable, the commitment, but left her feeling alone.

  “I’m sorry I came here to hash this out; I needed to tell you and just know that you know what I know.” He looked at her with tortured eyes.

  “I’m sorry. The good news is that the worst thing to come out of this will be a baby, and they’re pretty cute.” She rubbed his knee, as well. Dove wasn’t a fan of the little chubby mcshitters when She used to be in charge of the carousel, but the little bundles that didn’t ride were okay.

  “This is just not the plan I had. I wanted a house, a nice bank account, a sturdy minivan. I mean, I want kids, just a little later in life. But that’s all going to change now. I feel like because Beth wants this relationship with me, it has to be that way. She gets what she wants. I’ve never met anyone more driven in my life.” Johnson looked at Dove’s breasts. “God, I’m going to miss those. They’re amazing. Have I told you that?”

  “You have. Quite a few times. And the girls have appreciated it.” Dove tried to smile. Instead she felt like crying as if she’d stubbed a million toes. He was right; Beth got her way no matter what.

  There was a knock on the door. Dove shook her head, indicati
ng to Johnson that they were going to stay quiet. Her time now with him was a precious resource that was going to run out.

  The knock was louder this time. “Open the door, Dove. You know I can just use my key. I’ve got a visitor for you and asschunk. You’ll want to hear what she has to say.”

  “Duke.” Dove clarified for Johnson.

  “I figured. It’s always him.” He stood as Dove did.

  She crossed the apartment and unlocked the door, sliding the chain free from the latch. “Come in,” she said as she swung the door open. She expected Duke, but she didn’t expect Beth.

  She’d forgotten that Duke was dressed up as someone’s stepbrother, and she looked him up and down before motioning for them both to enter.

  “I’ve got to go,” Johnson said, clearly uncomfortable.

  Duke put up his hand. “You’re the reason she’s here, sunshine, so stick around for a second. Tell him, Beth.”

  Beth’s lips danced with each other for a while, conveying her supreme discomfort. “I… um…”

  “Spit it out.” Duke rolled his eyes.

  “She’s pregnant, Duke, we have to be nice to her.” Dove hated to defend her, but she felt like she had to because this was her home.

  Duke widened his eyes and gave Beth a hard look.

  “I’m not pregnant,” Beth blurted out.

  “And?” Duke prompted.

  “And I’ve been drinking wine all night. I’ve never been pregnant, and I’m not now.” She stuck her hands under her armpits.

  “There you have it, pharmacist.” Duke gestured to Beth as if she were a prize on The Price is Right.

  Then he locked eyes with Dove. “That should make you happier.”

  “Duke?” Dove held out her hand toward him.

  He nodded and backed out of the doorway. “I’ll leave you to work it out.”

  “No. Stop.” Dove followed him into the hallway as Johnson started peppering Beth with indignant questions. Beth was shouting back soon, defending herself for the lie.

  Dove closed her door behind her, the hallway full of so much that was unsaid. “Duke.”